


Alpha

by BittersweetAlias, KimpatsuNoHoseki



Series: Harem of a Necromancer [12]
Category: Anita Blake: Vampire Hunter - Laurell K. Hamilton, Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Anal Sex, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Micah redeems himself, Micah sticks his foot in it, Mile High Club, Oral Sex, Sex, miscommunications
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-22
Updated: 2020-06-30
Packaged: 2021-03-04 04:35:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 29,499
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24867691
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BittersweetAlias/pseuds/BittersweetAlias, https://archiveofourown.org/users/KimpatsuNoHoseki/pseuds/KimpatsuNoHoseki
Summary: Micah and Edward join Harry in Philadelphia, and of course things never go quite as planned, and with Harry’s promise to lighten up on his magic in front others it’s going to be quite a challenge not raising an entire graveyard.Book 13: Micah
Relationships: Edward (Anita Blake)/Harry Potter, Micah Callahan/Edward (Anita Blake)/Jean-Claude (Anita Blake)/Harry Potter, Micah Callahan/Harry Potter
Series: Harem of a Necromancer [12]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1532249
Comments: 155
Kudos: 574





	1. Chapter 1

The first time he’d done it had been because he wanted to show off, the second time was because he needed them in defense of a nearly immortal Fey. However, the third time was anything but a charm. He honestly hadn’t meant to do it. 

Over five hundred bodies had been raised, and by sheer accident. He had only meant to call Gertrude Smith to answer a few ancestry questions, and what he’d gotten was an entire cemetery rising. It’d given everyone quite a fright. What was more was the fact that some of the bodies were well over a hundred years old. 

It was a good thing that most people didn’t know that raising centuries old zombies was quite a challenge. Harry had managed to blame it on something innocuous and not himself before putting everyone but Gertrude back to their beds. He’d gotten out of that one relatively unscathed, but what was going to happen the next time?

It was his only thought when he returned home that night. It hadn’t been long ago when spies entered St. Louis with interest in his raising abilities. He had agreed to cut back on his magic usage in public. He’d become too comfortable with the legal laws, and eyes were starting to get drawn to him more and more. 

But, how could Harry control this? He was at a loss as he slipped quietly into the bedroom where two of his four men were sleeping. He tried to reign in the heavy sigh as he stripped down, and went to wash the blood off his hands and brush his teeth. 

Micah shuffled over when Harry came over to the bed. “You’re not happy. What happened?” he asked sleepily as Harry crawled over Edward’s body. 

“I didn’t mean to,” said Harry settling down with a pout. “It was an accident.” 

“What did you do, Little Raven?” Edward asked turning to form his chest to Harry’s back as Micah wrapped around him. 

“I raised the whole graveyard,” Harry muttered as he buried his face into Micah’s arm. 

“All of it?” asked Micah. “How many?” 

“Five hundred?” 

“Jesus!” 

“I didn’t mean to! I only used a drop of blood, and the magic just went shooting out like a volcano! It rushed so quickly to me I didn’t have time to calm it down, and everything rose.” 

“Was it human looking?” Edward asked and Harry moaned. “All of them?” 

“Yes,” he mumbled. “I managed to play it off, said because it was a new moon the spirits were extra sensitive, and they were all clueless and amused enough to buy it.” Lately, his power seemed to be getting stronger, and more effective. Way more effective. 

“You need to get control of it, Little Raven.” 

“I know.” 

Micah squeezed him. “It’s okay. Surely it’ll level out and you can figure out how to control it.” 

“I hope so, because I don’t want to do this around the wrong people by accident. But if I don’t raise, then my magic will react and everything nearby will get raised. I really don’t want to see what was buried across the street.” 

“Do you think it would spread far?” asked Micah. 

“No idea.” He sighed in exhaustion. 

“Go to sleep, Little Raven. You won’t figure it out now.” 

It was nice coming home to a warm comfortable bed with at least one of his men beside him, and having two was even better. Jean-Claude stayed over three times a week. Marcus was in and out on an irregular schedule. That man was a work-a-holic if he ever met one. A good way to keep up security was for Jean-Claude to never sleep in the same place all week long. It was even nicer because he could fall asleep at the drop of a hat. He sighed and turned over into Edward’s arms, and buried himself into the man’s chest. Micah draped over his back, and who the hell needed a blanket when he had one of his lovers? 

Harry let out a small whine as Micah pushed inside his ass. “We haven’t fucked Micah, when did you lube up?”

“I know, Baby, but it’s nice being nestled in you. Haven’t done it in a while.” Micah shifted his hips forward enough to ensure he was all the way in before he threw an arm over Harry to rest on Edward’s hip. It took a lot of willpower not to rock back and turn this into sex; especially when Micah ground against him for a few minutes.  _ Merlin, they’re evil _ . Harry thought as Edward pulled him into a kiss. Edward then chuckled as though he heard Harry’s thoughts, and he probably had, considering he was too tired for a filter. 

But then, not even two hours later the phone was ringing causing Harry to moan in discontent. Edward reached for it, making Harry sulk deeper. He was already passing it to Harry who was resisting throwing it against the wall. Instead of Harry answering, Micah grabbed it from him. 

“Hello?” Micah rocked his hips, causing his cock to slide in and out as if he was trying to rock Harry back to sleep. Sometimes there were emergency calls for Micah since he, Marcus, and Rafael were part of a shapeshifter coalition, but most of the time it was for Harry, and this proved no different. “Larry? What’s up, buddy?” 

“Larry?” Harry brought his head up as Micah’s hips stilled. “It’s too late for him to be doing a raising…” But he paused when Micah was suddenly pulling out and sitting up. 

“I see. Here he is.” 

Harry sighed in disappointment and rolled over onto his back; budding erection deflating. “Larry, what’s going on?” he asked, clearing his throat. 

“I’m so sorry, Harry. You know I wouldn’t call unless it was important. It’s Tammy.” 

For a moment, Harry was confused. Why would Larry call him about a woman he didn’t even really like? He only played nice because of Larry. Honestly, outside witches. All were complete idiots. “Okay, what’s wrong with her?” 

“She was rushed to the emergency room. She started bleeding, they think the baby is in danger.” 

Harry was now wide awake. “Damn, I’m sorry Larry. Uhm, what do you need me to do?” Now, he wasn’t heartless by any means. Just because he didn’t like her didn’t mean he wanted anything bad to happen to her. 

“I’m due on an eight a.m. flight to raise a witness for the FBI.” 

“The federal witness who died before he could testify,” said Harry. He knew the case. 

“Yeah. They need the animator that brings him back to be one of us who’s also a Federal Marshall. Me being a Marshall was one of the reasons the judge agreed to allow the zombie’s testimony.” 

“I remember,” and now he knew what he wanted. “You need me to fly out there?” Micah settled back against Harry’s side.

“If you wouldn’t mind. All my files on the case are at Animators. I’d stopped by the office to get them and load up the briefcase when Tammy called. I think my briefcase is just sitting on the floor in our office. I got all the files in it. The agent in charge is…” And he hesitated. “I can’t remember. Oh hell, Harry, I can’t remember!” A Federal Marshall really shouldn’t be panicking like a schoolboy, but considering his future wife, Harry let it slide. 

“It’s fine I’ll figure it out myself, Larry,” he calmly soothed as the blanket was tossed away. Edward and Micah were already getting up and half listening to Larry on the other line. 

“Micah. Use the cell to see if Jean-Claude is awake,” said Edward quietly. Micah walked over to dig through clothes for another cell. He loved how on point his men were, honestly. He also loved the view of both of them currently naked. If Larry wasn’t on the phone Harry would see about having some fun. 

“Bert’s going to be pissed,” said Larry. “Your rates are almost four times what mine are for a zombie raising.” 

Harry smirked. “Tough for him and we can’t change the price mid contract.” 

“No,” and he let out a strangled laugh. “But Bert is going to be pissed that we didn’t try.” 

Harry snorted. “Yeah, I’ll bet he will be. I’ll get the files from the office. I’ll get a flight and be there. You just take care of yourself and Tammy, okay?” 

“Thanks, Harry. I don’t know what I... I’ve got to go-the doctor’s here.” And like that he was gone. 

Unlike his men, Harry had yet to roll out of bed. He was still tired, and then there was Teddy. Edward had returned from the closet with some clothes for him. “Come on, Little Raven.” 

“I’m tired,” he sighed. “What about Teddy? Peter?” Draco was at the Circus overnight with Asher, and Hermione had gone with Louie to a cabin for the weekend. With a pout, he slowly slid out of the bed and reached for the clothes. 

A semi-professional outfit had been chosen. Edward did have taste. It had a more innocent wholesome taste than Jean-Claude with only a thong deviance hidden beneath, which was very startling on a professional assassin and a sociopathic man. A white form-fitting long sleeved ribbed turtleneck with a silk black vest that was open in the front and buttoned at the bottom, and a pair of black slacks with super thin white lines. It hugged his hips and thighs and then flowed down like water. He also had a belt ready and made with guns, knives, and the works. Ever since the scare a few months ago, Harry had toned down his magic, and relied more on guns and knives these days. 

He managed to get himself dressed as Micah returned. “He’s letting us use the Jet.” 

“You go ahead with him. I’ll catch up,” said Edward. “Someone has to see Teddy to and from school today, but come night I’ll be there. Peter can watch out for himself most of the time but I’ll talk to Marcus or Shang-Da about watching them both while we’re gone.” Marcus was on rotation for the rest of the day at St. Charles Hospital and depending on his current rotation schedule he might not be available. 

Harry was relieved. Everyone was busy with their lives these days. His adorable leopards were starting to migrate more out of the house. Rafael had gone to see his son. He hoped that went well for him. 

“Baby, go grab the case from the office. I’ll pack what we need and get us a hotel room. When you come back you can say good-bye to Teddy before we head out to the airport. Edward will ensure I haven’t forgotten anything.” Micah came around the bed dressed. 

“Alright.” Harry agreed. “Division of labour, thank you for packing. My animators kit is by the front door.” Harry pulled Micah into a quick kiss before stepping away and apparating to the office.

It didn’t take long for Harry to gather everything from the office he needed and he was soon appearing in his entrance hall. He had warded the house so that the only location you can apparate into was the entrance. Against the wall he noticed two packed bags. A quick check in each revealed one packed with clothes for Micah, Harry, and Edward; and the other filled with his animator’s bag and lots of weapons. Harry placed the file of documents in with the weapons and a copy in with the clothes. This way, if they lost a bag somewhere they still had the information. Not that he expected them to lose a bag, but you had to be careful. 

Not seeing Micah in the kitchen, Harry made his way back upstairs. In the master bedroom he found Micah sitting on the bed speaking softly to Edward. Edward was back under the covers, this time with Teddy resting against him. The eight, soon to be nine year old, looked to be fighting sleep as he listened to whatever Micah was saying. There was another hour before he’d have to get up for school. 

“Parrain, going to save the day again.” Teddy smiled at Harry as the man moved to join Micah sitting on the bed. 

“Sure am Teddy Bear. Be good while we’re gone.” Harry dropped a kiss on Teddy's nose. 

“Of course!” Harry couldn’t help but smile as Teddy shuffled down to be lying flat on the bed. Edward was still propped up against the mountain of pillows. He dropped a hand to rest on Teddy’s head. 

“I’ve got him covered and will speak to Toy before he drops for the day as well. I’ll meet you tonight after everything is settled here.” Edward pulled Harry and Micah into a harsh kiss one after another. “Don’t have too much fun before I arrive.” 

“If there’s anything to kill we’ll try and put it on hold,” Harry promised with one last kiss. 

Micah was smirking, and took the keys from Harry so that he could try and dig out the agents’ name he would be meeting. “You know I think he meant sex.” 

“He probably means both. He’s going to expect us to have sex considering your cock was up my arse,” Harry pouted. “You should have finished.” 

“Hey it’s the warmest spot in the house,” Micah argued with an insatiable grin that only got wider. Harry couldn’t help but flush at the way he said it. “Besides, Baby needs his sleep or he’s grumpy.” 

“You’re lucky that big fat cock was able to go in so easily.” He had his cellphone out, which had been upgraded without his knowledge. Thanks Draco. It was something called a Blackberry and looked more like a bloody toy than it did a phone. 

It also had really small buttons causing Harry to mistype or dial at times. He leaned forward to hunt down the file with the agent’s name. 

“You just have the pretty ass for it.” Micah could help but reach around and squeeze said ass.

Harry grumbled. “Do I? I’m glad my butt is approved by all of you. It feels very loved, you know.” Micah laughed at him. 

“It’s very loveable.” Micah massaged it a bit while drawing Harry into a kiss before Harry finally pulled away remembering they had to get to the airport.

“To the airport. I can’t find the number right now, it’s probably on Larry and he forgot.”

“Alright. Alright,” Micah chuckled. “I’ll be a good kitty and follow. Anyways, surprises never hurt anyone, right?”

“Don’t jinx us!”

“How about I fuck the jinx away on the jet? Join the mile high club and all that.”

“The what?”

“Oh, Baby, we’re going to have fun.” Micah grinned. Harry wasn’t sure what to make of the grin, but from the overall look on Micah’s face it had to do with sex. He wasn’t about to complain, not with the way they got interrupted by the phone call. 

“If you say so,” said Harry, still trying to figure out what that meant. “I just want to know what the mile high club means.” 

“You’ll find out.” 

“Scary.” Since they were taking a private jet, Jean-Claude had made it damn easy to get through security even if he got strange looks about carrying a shoulder holster and a gun, and looking a bit on the young side. But they got through much quicker than if it was a public flight. 

Jean-Claude’s jet was the epitome of luxury with JC Corporation written on the side in bold black cursive lettering. Inside was all a plush blue with soft white track lighting around the top and bottom. A variety of bench seating, and of course the pilot was a fifteen year werewolf veteran. He bowed to Harry and Micah as they passed while at the same time calling Harry, his Lupa. All of them did. 

“You’re really excited,” Harry observed as he plopped down. Micah stowed their bags up top. 

“Of course I am. It’s been a while since we’ve been alone together.” He plopped down. 

“Has it? Merlin, maybe it has. I’m sorry.” 

Micah shook his head with a smile. “Not that I mind. I love Edward and Jean-Claude, and they’re an extension of us. But I don’t know. I forgot what it’s like being alone with you.” 

“We need to work on that then,” said Harry. “Most of our leopards are now starting to migrate away, and being a lot less needy. Soon we’ll have the house mostly to ourselves. Well us, the kids, Hermione, Draco, Stephen, Gregory, Seth, Damien in the basement, and Noah. Bugger that’s still a lot of us.” 

Micah threw his head back laughing. “Yes it is, but it’s great. Still, I like having something with you. I don’t exactly have any of your firsts.” 

Harry blinked at this. “What do you mean?” 

“Well, Edward has your first kiss, Jean-Claude had you first, and I come along and just muscle in. Even Jason got your first were sex.” 

Harry shook his head. “That’s not true. You actually do have quite a few firsts. At least in my eyes you do.” 

Micah tilted his head, bright leopard eyes glowing. “Like what?” 

“You were the first large cock I ever had?” Harry grinned causing Micah to burst out laughing. “Also, you were the first one to consistently stay over until you just belonged. Edward was always coming and going, mostly going after he came, and at the time things were still odd with me and Jean-Claude.” Micah was almost rolling at how Harry talked about Edward. “You were also the first one of the three that I knew loved me back,” he said, causing Micah to sober and straighten. 

“Truly?” 

Harry nodded. “Yeah.” 

“Not even Jean-Claude?” 

”I knew he was fascinated, Micah. I knew he was a bit possessive and obsessive, but I always wondered when that fascination would dry up, and I would just be another silly human to him. It’s strange. I mean, I know differently now, but it took me a long time to wrap my head around the fact that he actually loved me back. You also know how Edward is. I could never tell with him. But you, I always know. I don’t have to constantly ask myself twenty questions and flub around on the answers. So, yes, Micah you have a lot of firsts. At least firsts that mean something to me.” He took Micah’s hand and brought it to him for a kiss. 

Micah shook his head, and tugged him so that Harry went right into his lap. “You’re precious, Baby.” 

“You think so? Least I’m not a pain in the arse.” 

Micah snickered. “Implying that my cock is a pain in your ass?” 

“Not at all,” Harry purred with a soft kiss to his pouty lips. “I quite like your cock in my ass or my mouth.”

“I almost think you love my cock more than me.” 

“But how is that possible when it’s attached to you?” 

Micah laughed. “You’re so adorably literal.” 

“I’ll show you how literal I can be,” said Harry shimmying down Micah’s neck and unbuttoning his shirt. “I’m going to take my time.” 

“Take all the time you want,” Micah breathed in sharply. 

Harry swept a hand across his chest, enjoying the tanned muscles. He sucked and circled around the man’s nipples, and enjoyed the energy that flowed from him so naturally. Micah spread his knees, and Harry wound up on the floor between them. He rubbed and teased Micah to hardness before he even pulled his Nimir-Raj out. He stood tall and thick, veins coiling up and down the shaft. Harry followed them with his tongue. His fingers encircling the base to keep it in position. 

He had Micah moaning louder the more Harry slowly worked his muscles against the thick swollen veins. He slurped around the head, and teased him by managing to go almost the entire way down to the base. 

“Fuck…” Micah cried out as Harry kept a slow and teasing pace. Micah was pulling on the back of his clothes by now as if he wanted them off. He needed them off, and Harry just kept going. “Baby… Baby please?” 

He kept his eyes open as he slowly worshiped Micah’s cock until it was pulsing red around the head with a need. Micah’s fingers dug into his hair, and tried to pull him up. Harry kept his eyes open, kept looking at his Nimir-Raj, and every so often he would send his inner beast pushing right into Micah causing him to let out a strangled moan. 

“You are also the only one who is my Nimir-Raj,” Harry lolled his tongue around as he spoke with a mouthful. 

“Please… let me have you,” Micah begged, and Harry smiled and flicked his tongue like a snake. Micah’s eyes narrowed like a cat, his face flushed so beautifully. 

Harry pretended to not listen, sucking and teasing harder and faster. He picked up a good pace that had Micah’s breathing nearly as loud as his sounds and before Micah could lose his orgasms Harry spun just a bit of magic in his caressing hand and ran it up and down Micah to stop the orgasm from bursting through causing Micah to let out a noise. 

“No… Tell me you did not learn that from Jean-Claude?” Micah choked. 

Harry grinned. “And you are the first I’ve ever used it on,” he said quite proudly as he stood from his knees right then and looked the beautiful alpha over. He was heaving, his shirt unbuttoned and unkempt. His cock stood at attention with a dripping need. Harry wiped the saliva from his mouth. 

Micah had such delicate triangular features that it was almost a crime to be able to look that pretty until you got below the neck. Mother nature certainly made up for her impish ways. “Harry… Baby?” 

Harry stood there for several moments before slowly unbuckling his belt. Micah was suddenly on his feet, and he seized Harry and brought their mouths together. Harry sucked and licked along his tongue like it too were a cock. Micah pulled at his clothes to point that they were ripping. “You’ll have to explain to Edward,” Harry teased. 

“You can repair them,” Micah growled. 

“Sit down,” Harry ordered with a poke to his chest. 

Micah glared, but Harry held steady, and used his inner beast to force Micah back down on the seat as he dropped his pants to his ankles and stepped out of them. Harry used some magic to coat himself before he climbed over top of Micah, and guided himself. Micah tried to help, but Harry snapped his fingers causing thin ropes to spin around and tie Micah’s wrists together on the armrests on each side of them. Harry was slim enough to have no problem slipping on top of him. 

“Harry!” 

“Nope. If you can do it to me, I can do it to you,” Harry kissed him, and he teased Micah by very slowly sinking down. Micah’s eyes rolled, and his hips bucked. He tried to move his hands, but found that he was unable. 

“Fuck, you’re going to kill me.” Harry’s eyes rolled as he rocked inch by inch on top of Micah’s cock. It would slide further and then Harry would rise up, and out. He continued to do this until the narrow gaze was almost cutting. “Nimir-Ra!” 

He rose up once more causing a series of curses, and before Micah could throw a tantrum and try to break the ropes Harry sank down hard and fast until he was full of Micah’s thickness. He began to rock slow and rotate his hips. He would bob up and down, and he encircled Micah’s neck while sliding his tongue into his mouth. Every full thrust and rock had both of them moaning. Harry felt so full, and he too was pulsing hard and body craving him so badly. Micah’s balls became hard and swollen when Harry reached back and down to stroke him. He grinned as Micah continued to glare, but lost it when Harry rotated more and clenched his hips tight. 

Micah by now was trying hard to break the binding as Harry had his go, and he never stopped. Harry orgasmed twice leaving Micah hissing. “Let me up…” 

“No… do it yourself if you can,” Harry taunted pushing Micah back against the seat, and riding him faster. 

Micah pushed his energy through their connection, and still he couldn’t break the ropes. Instead, he started using his hips to pump higher into Harry hitting his nerves. “When I get free from here..” 

“If you can,” Harry purred as he pet the man’s soaked hair and licked along his ear. “Can you do it, Nimir-Raj? Overpower your Nimir-Ra?” He pushed some more, and bit down on Micah’s lower lip, sucking in a small amount of his desire and lust. He wanted Harry so fucking bad right now that nothing mattered. The jet could go up in smoke and he’d still not give a damn. 

And when the ropes finally snapped, Harry squealed as Micah moved fast. Flipping them until Harry was half sitting in the seat with his legs spread and wrapped around Micah who clutched where his hips and thighs met, and he began to slam into Harry making everything inside of him vibrate up to his spine. 

Harry’s control was lost as his nerves buzzed, and once again he was orgasming in time to Micah’s thrusts and the hissing groans that came out of him. “Let me cum!” 

Harry choked out. “Why?” he taunted. “I like you like this, Micah. You can fuck me all morning long.” 

Micah rocked into Harry and glared down into his eyes. He was shaken as Harry squeaked at the pressure. He coasted a hand up Micah’s sweaty hot face, and pushed his own desires into him much like he had Edward so that Micah could feel everything he was feeling. Micah shook, his leopard eyes glowing and rounding. “F-fuck.. Is this..?” 

“What I feel every time you are in me,” said Harry, and finally he released the coil of magic he had on Micah. “Finish me.” 

He thrust deeper and harder, more volatile until Micah lost control of his orgasms while at the same time feeling his own and Harry’s lust and desire. He poured inside of Harry until he couldn’t orgasm anymore. He slumped into Harry who curled around him. 

“That was evil,” Micah heaved. 

“You loved it.” 

“Ngh. You tied me up.” 

“Yep.”

Micah laughed thickly as he remained on top of Harry. “I love you, Baby, but that was torture.” 

“But oh-so good torture, right?” Harry grinned. 

“You could make a fortune dancing at Guilty Pleasures. I think I’ve told you this before, and I still think it.” 

Harry groaned. “No! I’m not a dancer.” 

“Oh yes you are, Baby.” Micah had sense enough to pull back. His cock was still lodged inside of Harry and he had stuffed Harry so full, his own cum was draining out slightly around his cock. He tugged Harry’s wrists, and pressed a kiss to the fur cuffs. 

“I’d rather have my men dancing for me,” said Harry gliding his fingers up and down the sweat and cum coated chest. 

“You wouldn’t dance for us if we asked?” Micah manipulated him with a pout causing Harry to huff. 

“Only if one of you were with me. Like Jean-Claude or you. I know Edward would never do that.” 

Micah grinned. “He prefers to watch.” 

“Always watching that man,” Harry shivered as the sweat began to gel on them. Micah leaned down and kissed him softly. 

“Now who takes care of who?” 

“I suppose I should take care of my Nimir-Raj,” Harry cooed. 

“Can you even walk? I - was quite hard on you.” 

“It’ll probably be slow going, but we have another, what, hour or so?” Harry grinned. “I’ll be on my feet in no time.” 

“Power bottom,” Micah teased, and before he could do anything else he went flying back and rolling on the floor naked in laughter. “HARRY!” 

Harry cleared his throat and sat up with a hazy rub to his head. “Something wrong, Nimir-Raj?” He was kicking his feet out and squawking. “I like you in that position.” He waved his hand causing a cool cleansing spell to snap around the giggling Micah. “You knew that was coming, Micah.” Harry purred as he stood, and placed his hands on his hips. He was completely naked, stuff was coming out of him, and he just didn’t care as he released the tickling spell as Micah whined and doubled over. 

“Mean, Baby. You’re so mean,” Micah whimpered. 

“I love you too,” Harry cheered, waltzing over only for Micah to flop his head back and stare at him. He tried to stay steady on his feet. He didn’t want to land on his very red and sore bottom. Micah could be rough, but Merlin did Harry love it. 

“I like you like this,” Micah breathed, raking his gaze up and down Harry. “Naked, all  _ my _ cum pouring out of you.” 

“Yes, but I’m not sure if the FBI agent will approve or the rest of the public.” 

“Screw them.” 

“No thanks. One stranger a year,” said Harry blandly making Micah snicker. It didn’t matter if it technically had been last year. 

“You fed on me right?” 

“Just a bit. Not much. I really wanted you to feel what I was feeling,” said Harry. 

“Is that how you really feel when we’re in you? Geez, I’ve never known someone who could feel like that!” 

Harry brought his shoulders up. “It’s always been that way. I never realized how sensitive I was.” 

Micah was thoughtful. “Do you think Jean-Claude made you that way?” he asked curiously. 

“No,” said Harry shaking his head. “I know I have no real comparison to before Jean-Claude, but I don’t think I’m so easily changed like some people’s human servants. Now whether I changed myself without knowing is another thing. But I don’t think Jean-Claude had anything to do with it. I told Edward once that my magic is outgrowing me. It’s getting stronger. It shouldn’t.” 

“What do you mean?” 

Harry conjured a cool wet cloth, and he knelt down to wash his Nimir-Raj gently. “Age of majority is seventeen to twenty. It’s like a natural height, and unless you do crazy experiments or get lucky you’re not expected to grow much more. Your core isn’t expected to change once you reach magical majority. But, mine is growing. It keeps growing. Look what I did with that graveyard? I shouldn’t have been able to do that, but I did.” 

“You think your high drive is tied in with your high magic?” 

“Yes because our magic is what makes us who we are. It’s in our blood. In our soul. It’s what defines us. Before Jean and Edward no one ever touched me. I’d been hugged all of three or four times in my life.” He brought his shoulders up. “So, what is this mile high club?” 

Micah chuckled. “You’re so adorable,” he stroked Harry’s cheeks. “You are now a proud member.” 

“Huh?” 

He laughed some more. “Sex, thirty thousand feet in the air.” 

“Did we get that high so soon?” Harry wondered, thinking it was kind of odd that there was a club for this. Did they do it in public on normal planes? Or did they use the bathroom? How did that work? 

“If not we can always recreate it,” said Micah grinning, and he pulled Harry down on top of him, and rolled them until Harry was on his back, and began to nuzzle and softly kiss him. 

It was nice getting to be with Micah alone, and he would have to make sure that each of his lovely men got the personal time they all deserved.


	2. Chapter Two

#  Chapter Two

Both of them were freshly washed and re-dressed, Micah was going as Harry’s assistant, but he couldn’t look more or less like an assistant if he tried. He was wearing a lovely Italian cut suit that tailored to his delicate swimmer’s frame, and his rich chocolate brown hair had been tied to the base of his neck in a nice braid. He wore sunglasses to hide his leopard eyes as they often gave people a fright. 

Harry was back in his Edward chosen outfit and Micah was affixing the fur lined torc so that it sat outside the fold of the turtleneck in view. It looked pretty good and fitting. His boots were black and shiny with two inches of good incline allowing him to try and stand on sort of even ground with the giants of America. 

“It seems that Edward has a classic sort of taste,” Micah said with a cock of his head. 

“Classic something, except for the thong.” 

“You know how he is, always undercover.” 

Harry snickered. “Edward in a nutshell.” 

He didn’t know much about who or what he was meeting except that it was Feds. He’d seen written down that they were supposed to meet Larry on the ground. He wished he had been able to call and let them know that there’d been a change of plans. But there were too many names on the case to pinpoint the lead agent. 

He double checked the weapons on his person as the announcement overhead of landing came across the Jet. He had a custom made thigh holster with a ruger attached, and also had a shoulder holster. Both of these were invisible to the naked eye, but his hip had a standard issued Glock resting in view. He had a various amount of knives concealed on his person along with his two wands, and a small fleet of potions, and even a razor wire. Normally, Harry wouldn’t have more than one gun on him, but since he was trying to use less magic in the public eye he didn’t have much choice. He was still of the mind to use his magic first and guns later, but he was working on it. 

Micah even had his own gun tucked away inside the tailored suit jacket. It was a Beretta. Merlin, he looked so good all dressed up. It was of course a Jean-Claude inspired outfit, and so it was nothing less than perfect and made him look too edible and expensive to be a lowly assistant to Harry Potter-Black. 

“Perhaps you should dress me sometime.” 

Micah laughed quietly. “But, Baby, if I did that you ain’t wearing nothin’,” he said, causing Harry to blush deeply. “I’m always a naturalist after all. Look at you, still flushing like a schoolboy. It’s adorable.” 

“Micah…” Harry whined. “I have to be professional.” 

“You can still be professional. Professionally adorable, and looking very nice naked.” 

Harry spluttered. “I don’t exactly have the fine curves that a lovely woman has.” 

Micah stared at him peculiarly. “I don’t want you to be female.” 

“You don’t miss being with a woman? I know most of you are all at least bisexual. I’m the only one actually gay.” Harry wasn’t asking to be depreciating. He was truly curious about it. As a guy who only liked guys, he never did think of women. Sure, he could appreciate their beauty and aesthetic, but they didn’t get him going. 

He laughed. “No, I really don’t, Baby.” 

“Why not?” 

“My size isn’t all it’s cracked up to be.” 

“You mean your height?” Micah laughed some more, and Harry sulked. “Why do I think you’re laughing at me for saying something dumb?” He whined as Micah curled his arms around Harry and drew him closer. 

“God, I love you so much. Don’t worry about it, Baby. We can talk about it later. Let’s keep you cute and sweet for a bit longer, hm?” He snuggled into Harry’s neck. “Just know that falling for you was the best thing that ever happened in my life.” 

Harry couldn’t help but feel warm as he laced his fingers with Micah, and kissed his knuckles tenderly. “I may love all of you the same, but each one of you have brought something that’s missing to me, not to mention you’re Teddy’s Papa.” Micah grinned. 

It wasn’t long before they had landed, and Harry gathered his one bag as Micah pulled the small amount of luggage that was light-weight and easy to carry. 

Harry met the Feds just outside the landing strip as the stairs came down for them automatically. It wasn’t hard to pinpoint a Fed amongst everyone else. Most of them liked to be well tailored and dressed mostly in black or the darkest of blues with crisp clean white shirts and red or blue ties that had a silver cross pendant. They also carried themselves. 

“Oh shit, hold on, almost forgot that briefcase,” Micah ducked back inside. 

The first Fed that approached was a tall and handsome Native American with short dark hair, and crisp brown eyes that was already judging him, and frowned slightly. 

“You are not Federal Marshall Kirkland,” said the man approaching. 

“No sir, I’m not. I’m Federal Marshall Harry Potter-Black, and will be filling in for Larry Kirkland. His fiancee was rushed to the hospital earlier this morning. She’s only five months pregnant but is already having labor issues.” He figured if he tossed that in the man’s face, he’d get some leeway. “I tried to get your number to let you know about the switch, but it wasn’t in his files. It was likely on him when he got the call.” 

“Hm, I’m sorry to hear that about Mr. Kirkland.” And he seemed sincere, but then one could never tell with these men. “But, you can’t possibly be Mr. Potter-Black.” Harry stared at him in confusion. “Mr. Potter-Black is a well known MACUSA operative, and he’s at least mid twenties. You can’t even be a high school graduate yet. You sure you’re not his assistant?” 

There was a soft chuckle over Harry’s shoulder, and if the Feds weren’t there, Harry would have elbowed the handsome wereleopard. “I assure you sir, I am Harry Potter-Black.” he held out his Marshall badge. “I am also twenty-six,” he said with a sigh. “How am I going to deal with this in ten years?” He muttered causing more chuckling from behind him. “So, can I get a name from you next?” 

“FBI Special Agent Chester Fox,” he said slowly, and then turned to a familiar man over his shoulder. “ _ This _ is the Equalizer?” 

Harry recognized the tall dark skinned man that was right behind him, and was surprised to see Agent Franklin. He was as usual twisting at his tie, and frowned slightly when he saw Harry. “Yes,” he said dryly. 

“You’re telling me this is the one who has the highest legal kill count in the country?” On a technicality, Harry did have the highest  _ legal _ kills, but if they were talking about all around kills then Edward had that. It was just Harry’s tended to be more sensationalized. Jean-Claude didn’t call him mon Tueur d’Ombre for no reason. It was exceptionally apt. 

“I don’t understand why he is here,” said Agent Franklin. 

Harry rubbed at his forehead. “You know, I can just go and you can find another Federal Marshall that can raise the dead. Not a big deal, but because my friend and co-worker Larry Kirkland had an emergency I thought I’d be a decent bloke and help him out.” Except that it was a big deal because there were only three others in the country that were Animators  _ and _ Federal Marshalls. John Burke was one of them, but he was in Brazil to help identify the remains of an ancient tribe that was dug up. It wasn’t as big as the Bouvier cemetery, but it was good enough that it gave John Burke good credentials, reputation, and he got out of Harry’s face. The bugger was still hitting on him to this day whenever he got a chance. “Can you tell Pete to hold the Jet?” He turned just enough to see Micah at his back, shades drawn over his eyes to carefully keep them concealed. 

“Sure.” For some reason, his Micah looked very uncomfortable. Not as amused before. 

That snapped Fox and Franklin out of their discomfort. “Wait,” said Fox holding his hand up. “You do know you’re here to raise the dead and not kill anyone?” 

Harry looked at him flatly. “My original job is raising, and typically those two don’t go together unless there’s something I should know about the zombie itself and it gets buggered all to hell. I also work for the RPIT squad in St. Louis, and it has drawn me into a lot of issues that might have seen an entire squad of ill-prepared detectives and police mauled if I had not stepped in, and so unless there is more to this than meets the eye, I generally don’t go in shooting first and asking later.” That was Edward’s job. 

He took in a deep breath, and studied Harry’s face who kept a neutral expression. “Fine, Marshall Potter-Black. But you are not here to kill anyone in my city, do I make myself clear?” 

“Yep.” 

Harry was now wondering what Franklin might have told Fox about him. He knew that Franklin had been having rows with Bradley over whether the New Mexico debacle had been human or preternatural. Not everyone liked the new division for preternatural crime, and Franklin had been one of them. 

“Agent Franklin, good to see you again.” Harry shook hands with the man. “Surprised to see you here.” 

He took his hand back. “Didn’t your friend Bradford tell you I’d been reassigned?” And the way he said it made Harry think it was more than friend, and the rest was rather bitter. Not obvious, but it was there. 

“Not at all,” said Harry. “And this is-” But before he could present Micah as his assistant, Fox was already ahead of him. 

“Callahan, Micah Callahan?” Fox was already offering his hand and smiling, way more broadly than he’d smiled for Harry. Now he was curious. “You look good.” 

Micah smiled, not quite as broadly, and Harry knew he wasn’t all that happy to see the Agent. What on earth? “Fox, I...” Micah tried again. “The last time you saw me, I was still in the hospital. I must have looked like shit, so I guess anything’s an improvement.” Harry could hear uncertainty in his voice, though no one else but Harry could detect it he was sure. 

“Someone who came that close to dying is allowed to look like shit,” said Fox. 

And then Harry realized that it might have had something to do with how Micah had become a wereleopard. Harry had never asked for details, and now he felt like a bad boyfriend having not done so. He knew it had been violent. Most attacks that resulted in someone catching lycanthropy were violent, and since wereleopards were actually one of the more rarer viruses with a low contagion rate it would have had to be to make him one. Nathaniel had been mauled from the inside out by Gabriel when he was sixteen years old, and then put back together only to be broken again. Yeah, nasty business. 

Stephen and Gregory were forced to turn as children from a sick molesting father who was now very dead thanks to Marcus and Micah. 

Micah turned to Harry with a gentle expression. “Special Agent Fox was one of the agents who questioned me after my attack.” 

Harry hadn’t known that his mauling had gotten federal attention. It was rare that it would have happened like that at all, and so Harry didn’t bother asking right now. It was none of his business, and so he covered using a pleasant Edward expression. “What are the odds that he’d be the agent in charge of this case?” he said smiling with a fake knowledge. 

“I didn’t know you were an animator,” said Fox, still talking to Micah. 

“I’m not,” said Micah. 

Fox let it go at that, but Franklin didn’t seem too appeased. “Are you an executioner?” 

“No.” 

“You’re not a Federal Marshall,” And Franklin said it like he was positive. 

“No, I am not.” 

“Let it go, Franklin,” said Fox. 

“He’s brought a civilian along on a federal case.” 

“We’ll talk about this in the car.” He gave Franklin a look that stopped the taller man in mid sentence. 

Fox then turned to Harry. “Do we need to wait for more bags?” 

“Nope. We’re only here for the day and going back tomorrow right?” Harry asked for clarification. 

“That’s the plan,” he said, but his face was not happy, as if the whole thing with Franklin was still bothering him. 

“Then we’re ready to go.” 

They swept through the airport, and bypassed hallways and security with the help of Fox and the sour looking Franklin. There were two cars waiting on them. One had two other agents with it, and the other was empty and waiting for them. 

Fox spoke over his shoulder at them. “With the new regulations, even the FBI doesn’t get to leave cars parked unattended.” 

“It would be embarrassing if teenagers hopped in and took off,” Harry mused causing Fox to suddenly laugh as Micah grinned. Even Franklin’s lip twitched. 

“Isn’t that something your old Professor made mentions of, Harry?” 

“You stole a car?” Franklin frowned. 

Harry rolled his eyes. “I did not steal a car. I was bloody twelve back then, and we’d missed the train to take us to school. And because magic in the UK is a closed issue, me and my other twelve year old friend flew his dad’s car to school and crashed into a tree.” 

“Flew?” Fox questioned. 

“Yep.” Micah snickered.

“You made it to school though right?” then asked Fox as if it was so normal to see flying cars. 

“I did, and there was no traffic in the skies unless you count the birds.” 

“Well, at least he didn’t get in trouble for truancy.” 

Harry grinned cheekily causing Franklin to scowl silently. Harry and Micah took the backseat with two bags and a briefcase. Franklin and Fox were up front. 

“We’ll drop you at the motel,” Fox began. 

Micah interrupted him. “Actually, I booked us into the Four Seasons.” 

“Jesus!” Franklin hissed. 

“The FBI won’t pick up the tab for the Four Seasons.” 

“We wouldn’t expect it,” said Micah. 

Harry was not surprised that Micah would book them in a much nicer hotel room. A motel would have not only made Edward scowl at how dangerous they were, but Jean-Claude would cluck his tongue and remind them that they were worth more than a small lowercase m. 

“Are you really going to let him bring a civilian into our case?” 

Fox looked at Franklin. Even from the backseat it didn’t look friendly. “I suggest, strongly, that you let this go, Agent Franklin.” 

“Jesus, what is it about him?” Franklin scowled. “He smiles and bats those green eyes, and everyone just looks the other way! It was the same in New Mexico, and Bradford had a raging hard-on for him. How the hell do you do it?” 

Fox glowered. “Franklin…” and the word had a tinge of warning to it. 

Harry rolled his eyes and leaned forward. “No, Fox, It’s all right. If we don’t get this settled now, Agent Franklin and I won’t be able to work together.” Harry’s voice was as friendly as could be that had Franklin frowning even further at him. “I don’t really get what you mean about breaking rules. I haven’t broken any of them as far as I’m aware. I know this is a Federal Case, and Micah will have nothing to do with that. What he will have something to do with is being here to support me in a place I’ve never been, around people I’ve never seen before, which is all I need as an assistant.” 

“Why is it that every time you’re around, every straight man goes gay?” asked Franklin baldly causing Fox to almost slam on his breaks. 

“Agent, that is-” 

“No, it’s okay. I’m not insulted and I won’t report him or none of that,” said Harry smiling. “He’s free to speak. I want to know why he thinks this.” 

“Aren’t you? I saw how you were with Detective Ramirez.” 

“You mean Hernando?” Harry asked for clarification. “Who by the way was the only detective worth anything more than being a beat cop on a case that haunted New Mexico for years because the lead Detective feared so much for his soul that he refused to believe that it could have been preternatural, nor did he want to suffer a witch to live. He was so willing to put the safety of those around him in jeopardy all to keep his religion sparkling clean.” 

Fox frowned. “You’re serious?” 

“Deadly. Bounty Hunter Ted Forrester called me in when he realized that I might be able to actually give something to a case that terrified everyone. Detective Ramirez actually opened his eyes and ears, and listened. And I don’t understand why you would think I would sleep with him. I’m not sure Ted would approve.” 

Micah started chuckling softly. “N-no, he wouldn’t.” 

Franklin frowned at this, and then looked at Micah. “Bradford.” 

“What about Bradford? You think I’m sleeping with him? Ah, uh, no. I don’t have room for any more men in my life.” 

“So he didn’t get you alone and hit on you?” 

Harry blinked at this. “Bradford got me alone to tell me he wanted to offer me a job. You think I’ve slept with everyone or suddenly made them all gay? Well I haven’t. Hernando is a friend and he helped Ted rush an adoption for a teenage boy whose mother was an idiot. I hate to toot my own horn, but I am a preternatural expert. Bradford wanted to give me a job. He calls me to pick my brain about stuff, and I offered him the tools to help better do his job. How that is grounds to make others think I’m sleeping with him I have no idea.” 

“The FBI at Quantico can do that just fine,” Franklin said and it was obvious that he hardly had a leg left to stand on. His feathers were ruffled, and being plucked off one by one. 

“Really? So the FBI knew that a very powerful lycanthrope can shapeshift individual body parts and use them like knives all the while still human?” 

Franklin’s face fell at this, and Fox’s eyes widened. “You’re serious?” 

“Deadly. Look up the Roy Van Anders case, and you’ll see why I chose terrifying hundreds of people in a mall in a desperate attempt to avoid what he’d already done to not only dozens of women but a Mobile Reserve officer. So what if they need therapy? It’s better than a funeral of toddlers.” 

“Still doesn’t explain why you’re above the rules. Fox here is the most by-the-book agent I’ve ever worked with, and he’s letting you cart around a civilian. That’s not like him.” He was grasping now, the feathers falling to the ground one by one. 

“I know the civilian,” said Fox. “That makes a difference.” 

“He was a victim of a violent crime. So what? You knew him how long ago?” 

“Nine years,” Fox said in a soft voice, his dark eyes on the traffic, hands careful on the wheel. 

“You don’t know what kind of person he is now. Nine years is a long time. He must have been a teenager back then.” 

“Seventeen,” Fox’s careful voice said. 

“You don’t know him now. He could be a bad guy for all you know.” 

Fox glanced in the rearview mirror. “You a bad guy, Micah?” 

“No, sir.” 

“That’s it?” Franklin said, and he looked like he was going to work himself into hysterics or a stroke. “You ask if he’s a bad guy, and he says no, and that’s good enough?” 

“I saw what he survived; you didn’t. He answered my questions when his voice was only a hoarse rasp because the killer had clawed out his throat. I worked for Investigative Support for five years and what was done to him is still one of the worst things I’ve ever seen.” He had to slam on the brakes to keep from hitting the sudden line of traffic in front of us. Everyone was held back by their seatbelts thankfully. “He doesn’t have to prove anything to you, Franklin, and he’s already proven anything he ever needed to prove to me. You are going to lay off him, and Marshall Potter-Black.” 

“But don’t you even want to know why he’s here? What he brought him for? It’s an ongoing case. He could be a reporter for all you know.” 

Fox let out a long, loud breath. “I’ll let them answer this question once, just once, and then you let it go, Franklin. Let it go before I start having more sympathy with why Bradford had you reassigned.” 

Ouch. 

It stopped Franklin for a second or two, the traffic started creeping forward. For a moment, Harry thought the threat would make him give it up, but Franklin was made of sterner stuff than that. 

“If he’s not an animator or an executioner, then what does he assist you with, Marshall Potter-Black?” He barely managed to keep the sarcasm out of Harry’s name. 

“Lots and lots of sex,” said Harry causing Fox to laugh, and Franklin to flinch. 

“I thought Forrester was your lover?” 

“He is.” Franklin was staring at him confused, and Fox was actually grinning and staring into the rearview as Micah smiled sheepishly. “Both of them are, and they are each other’s lovers.”

Franklin looked as though he didn’t believe Harry at all. “Very funny.” But, he stopped asking questions. He stopped talking. He turned back around in his seat, and Harry could only smile.

“Whoever said the truth will set you free is full of rubbish,” Harry settled back and Micah was still quietly smiling though his eyes didn’t sparkle like they sometimes did when he was amused. 

Harry was used to nice hotels, and the Four Seasons was no different. “I’m impressed you managed to wiggle a room that meets all of Edward’s criteria.” It was closest to the stairs, and it was on the second floor. As usual with fancy hotels, it was much like a living room, and there was a plentiful King Size bed, and the bathroom was full of marble and decorative accents. 

“Is that all you can say?” 

“There’s much I can say, Micah. But first, I want to thank you.” Harry pulled him close and swooped his arms around the man’s neck and kissed him lovingly. But, Micah didn’t react back. He was stiff, and that was so not like him. 

“Thank me?” Micah frowned. “What for?” 

“Being here with me. Never letting me be alone.” 

“Really?”

“Hotel room is beautiful.” 

“You’ve been in fancier.” 

“True, I have, but you chose this hotel. For us.” 

“I did,” said Micah and then he sighed and pulled away leaving Harry to frown slightly. “I’m sorry.” 

“What for?” Harry sank down on the edge of the couch. “Talk to me, Micah.” Harry’s leopardess seemed to look curiously towards Micah, as if expecting his leopard to come over as it often did when the two were together.

Micah looked as though he were at a loss for words. He pulled off his shades, and Harry saw a haunting expression in his eyes. “Fox,” he said, and Harry knew what was on his mind. “I didn’t expect to see him here. What are the fucking odds?”

“I ask that a lot, Micah.” 

“You’re not even supposed to be here, and yet something always happens. Some sort of drama explodes! Every damn time!” He walked past Harry, and began to unpack their clothes. 

Harry’s chest tightened. “I’m sorry,” he managed to keep a straight voice, but he couldn’t help but wonder if maybe his abnormal life might be too much for Micah. He’d always questioned whether it was too much for Edward, but he never once thought that Micah might actually have a limit. 

“Just makes no sense to me at all. What, are you born under a bad sign or something?” He snapped. 

Harry cringed inwardly, his leopard hunkering down in the grass. “Pretty much,” he answered seriously. He watched Micah stalk through the room. He had abandoned the clothes and was now pacing, and Harry could feel the energy inside of him. Harry watched him carefully, fearing that saying anything more would cause Micah to fly off the handle. “If you want, you can fly back home. I can take care of all this myself.” Micah turned and shot a rare angry glare at him. “I’ll be home tomorrow, and likely Edward will be in town tonight.” 

“Trying to get rid of me already?” he asked harshly, making Harry flinch slightly. His eyes went cross. 

“Micah - that’s not-” 

“Bored of me so soon?” 

Harry drew back. “No, Micah! Why would you say that?!” he asked in horror. “I only suggested it because you’re hurt, and I don’t want you to be anymore hurt.” He tried to reach for Micah only to be pushed away. 

_ Ouch _ . 

“I’m not hurt! I’m pissed!” Micah hissed, Harry could almost imagine his leopard hissing as well. “So fucking pissed off right now! Nothing can ever be simple! No matter where we go some fucking issue gets started, and shit hits the fan! Why can’t for once things be normal?” He raged. His face turned a brilliant bright red, and Harry’s heart stung. 

Harry had never seen Micah so angry. Ever. It was like he was suddenly full of rage that could cause a miniature earthquake. “I’m not normal,” he managed to croak out. 

Micah snorted derisively. “If that isn’t the fucking truth!” 

Harry knew how to react when Edward was in one of his moods, and he knew how to act when Jean-Claude dived into his, but Micah was different. Harry had never seen him anything more than cool, calm, and practical. He was the cucumber of the bunch. Jean-Claude was the sweet passion fruit and Edward was the habanero pepper. Harry liked to think of himself as the lettuce. He was boring and plain until his men gathered around him. It was only then that he’d turn into something spectacular, and something that someone would want to eat. 

“What do you want then?” Harry asked, trying for a calm practicality, and ignoring the claw that raked him from the inside. He could feel Micah’s beast ruffling and trying to rear up to snap at something. Unfortunately Harry and his leopardess were right in the path. “What do you need, Micah?” 

Micah bared his teeth, and clacked them together. “I need for shit to make sense! And nothing about any of this makes sense, Harry! I feel like I’m apart of Jean-Claude’s fucking Freak Show!” 

Harry recoiled when Micah’s eyes bared down on him in accusation.  _ He _ was the Freak Show.  _ He _ was the one who started everything.  _ He _ was the one who drew in the drama and started trouble before even realizing what he’d been doing. He sank back on the arm of the couch and placed his hands between his thighs to keep them from shaking. He had to skew his face into being as neutral as he could. 

He had to show nothing because this wasn’t about Harry. This was about Micah and the pain that he was in. The pain of seeing his past come back to haunt him. 

“Say something!” Micah snapped making Harry flinch. He hadn’t realized he’d spaced out until Micah was right there in his face. “Don’t you have anything to say? A reason for this shit happening? I mean, you should. It revolves around you!” 

“It’s not about me right now, Micah. It’s about you,” said Harry neutrally. “So talk, and I will listen.” 

“I don’t want to talk. But I want you to tell me why is it, every abnormal thing happens when you’re around?” He seized Harry’s upper arms and gripped them tight. “ _ Tell me! _ ” He shook Harry with a force that almost toppled him from the couch. 

“I have no answer,” Harry managed to choke out, and he grimaced inwardly when Micah’s grip got tighter. His thin short nails dug right into Harry’s skin through the turtleneck. He used the small pain from the feeling to ground himself. “I’m sorry, but I don’t. I’ve asked those questions all my life. No one has come to answer.” 

A growl surged up Micah’s throat, and he shoved Harry away. “I need air! I need to get away...” And just like that the door slammed shut, and Micah was gone leaving Harry struggling not to cry. 

It was utterly silent, and the tinnitus in his ears only made the silence that much louder. He tried to distract himself by reading the files from Larry, but his heart was thudding inside to the point that it was causing tremors, and he kept trying not to choke. 

His eyes were blurred, and he tried not to take Micah’s anger seriously because he knew the man was in pain. It was likely the memories that Fox drew out when he explained to Franklin had Micah reeling. Probably going back to that time when he was young and helpless. No matter how much he told his leopardess this, it didn’t seem like she was listening.

He was sitting by the big picture window in the room at a four-seater table. The main road was just outside. It was a nice view because there was a fountain in the middle with sidewalks winding around it. He tried not to look out in hopes of seeing Micah. He had to read. He had to dissect, and he frowned at such little information offered in the reports. 

The deceased’s name had been Emmett Leroy Rose. He’d had a double degree from the University of Pennsylvania in accounting and pre-law. He’d gotten his last degree at the University of Pittsburgh School of Law. He’d died of a heart attack at the age of fifty-three, while in federal custody waiting to testify at an important trial. He’d been dead less than three months. It listed his race as African American, which wasn’t important in the details. His religion was listed as Protestant, and that small bit of information Harry did need. There were a few religious persuasions that could interfere with zombie raising. Vaudun was the big one. It could be tricky to raise someone who messed in vaudun. Same with outside witches and wizards like Wiccans and the like. It was more about the psychic abilities than the religion itself, but it looked to Harry that he was as normal as normal could get. Except he was dead. He was wanted so badly that the FBI wanted him raised to get his testimony. Aside from the fact that he had been in prison on the federal level’s watch, he would have thought Emmett Leroy Rose was the most average man in the world. But something made that not so. 

In fact, there were some important things missing from the file. Like what he had been arrested for--what illegal activity did they catch him at that was bad enough to get him in federal custody awaiting his testimony? And exactly what did an important trial mean? Could it be mob business? Harry wasn’t sure. His Edward mind was coming out, poking and prodding at what little information had been provided. 

Harry sighed. He was tempted to call Fox and ask some questions, but he already knew the score. No one was going to answer any of his questions. He was there for raising, not to investigate. He’d be overstepping an already thin line. 

His heart still ached, and he looked out the window down below, focusing on the pretty fountain. His skin buzzed with anxiety until his fingers began to tap incessantly against the wood of the table. 

He hoped Micah was okay, and he hoped it wasn’t the end of them. He had once told Micah that as long as he wanted to be around then Harry was happy. He never thought that his words would come back to bite him. How much more could Micah take of his freakishness before he had enough? Before he ran away again, and never looked back? Did Harry really blame him? 

No, not really. Harry couldn’t blame him because it was the truth. No matter how much it broke his heart. 


	3. Chapter Three

He couldn’t remember when he’d laid down in the large King Sized bed. He had been overcome with too many emotions to remain upright and reading the bloody lack of information on Emmett Leroy Rose. But, he hadn’t slept well. It was a rough sleep, and full of discontent, and so when he awoke to the sound of vibrating silence, his stomach clenched. He flinched when a familiar hot hand gently ran down the expanse of his back. 

“No. No, don’t do that,” Micah’s voice was thick, and it washed the silence away. 

Harry shivered when Micah curled around him, and buried his face into Harry’s neck. He took in a big deep breath, and clenched him tight. 

Harry was not quite sure what to say, his heart sped up at a fast pace, and as cliche as it sounded, it was like a rabbit. He had a modicum of fear of what would happen next. Micah groaned and rolled into him, clinging tightly, and stroking up Harry’s chest to his neck. His leopard crawled along the ground to Harry’s before licking her muzzle lightly. Harry’s leopard was silent and still as the grave. Not moving a muscle. 

“I was seventeen, almost eighteen. It was the fall before going away to college. My cousin Richie had just gotten back from basic. We both came home so we could go hunting with our dads one last time. You know, one last boy’s weekend out.” His voice held a touch of heat, and he clenched Harry tighter, and took in a sharp breath. “At the last minute, Dad couldn’t come with us. Some hunters had gone missing, and Dad thought one of his patrols had found them.” 

“Your dad was a policeman?” 

He nodded slowly. “County Sheriff. The body they found turned out to be a homeless guy who got lost in the woods and died of exposure. Some animals got him, but they hadn’t killed him.” He remained locked around Harry, hugging him for all it was worth. Harry could only feel where his mind had traveled to, and could see the beginnings of the scene in his head playing out like a film. 

“We were all armed, and Uncle Steve and Dad had taught Richie and me how to use a gun. I could shoot before I could ride a bike. I bet Edward would approve of that.” 

“Definitely,” Harry whispered back. 

Micah glided his fingers down to Harry’s wrists where the fur cuffs encircled him, and brought it up as if to examine. “We knew it might be the last time the four of us got to hunt together, you know? College for me, the army for Richie-- it was all changing. Dad was really upset that he didn’t get to come, and so was I. Uncle Steve offered to wait, but Dad told him to go ahead. We wouldn’t all get our deer in one day. He was going to drive up and join us the next day.” 

As he paused once more, Harry rocked into Micah’s chest, and tilted his chin enough to look into his beautifully delicate face. His leopardess finally gave in rolled into Micah’s. He had a wash of pain across his face that was easily noticeable. It wasn’t neutral or set in a grim straight fashion. But when Micah’s eyes connected to Harry’s, his face changed. Sparkled a touch, and he kissed the edge of Harry’s jaw. “We’d gotten a doe. We always got two buck tags and two doe tags, so between the four of us, we could shoot what we found.” He frowned, and then looked at Harry. “You don’t know what a deer tag is, do you?” 

Harry snorted. “Micah. How do you think I learned to shoot? The deer tags tells you what you can shoot, buck or doe. You don’t get a choice some years because some years there are more does than bucks, so they give out more doe tags. Though usually it’s a buck that’s plentiful.” 

“Edward?” Micah couldn’t help but actually smile. It was weak, but it was a real smile. 

“Uh huh.” 

He smiled. “Beth, my sister, thought it was barbaric. We were killing Bambi. My brother, Jeremiah--Jerry--didn’t like killing things. Dad didn’t hold it against him, but it meant that Dad and I were closer than him and Jerry, you know?” 

“My dad was a Stag animagus,” Harry offered. “It was hard for me the first time, but I pushed through it. Edward was my teacher, and you just don’t say no. It was actually kind of fun once I got over the comparison.” He realized that Micah had told him a lot about his family in that one sentence. 

“We had a doe. We’d field dressed it and put it on a pole. Richie and I were carrying it. Uncle Steve was a little ahead of us. He was carrying Richie’s gun and his. I had my rifle on a strap across my back. Dad always told me that if it was my gun, I needed to hold onto it. I had to control it at all times. Funny, I don’t think Dad really likes guns.” 

HIs face began to break slightly around the edges. All the emotions that he was trying not to have began to splash over him. 

“It was a beautiful day. The sun was warm, the sky was blue, the aspens were like gold. The wind was gusty that day. It kept blowing the leaves around in showers of gold. It was like standing inside a snow globe except instead of snow, it was golden, yellow leaves. God, it was beautiful, and that was when it came for us. It moved so fast, just a dark blur. It hit Uncle Steve and he just went down; never got back up.” His eyes were a little wider now. His pulse had jumped into his throat; making it hard for him to speak. Harry could feel and hear it. He could feel Micah’s beast rolling through him. Harry shifted and nuzzled beneath Micah’s neck and kissed at the pulse, and on instinct it began to slow as Harry touched him. 

“Breathe with me.” Harry pushed forward against Micah, not letting him start again until their breaths synced up at a slower pace. Once Micah’s pulse slowed down some he continued. 

“Richie and I dropped the deer, but Richie didn’t have a gun. I got my rifle almost to my shoulder when it hit Richie. He went down screaming, but he drew his knife. He tried to fight back. I saw the knife sparking in the sunlight.” Harry kept his pulse calm with gentle kisses. “I remember the face, it’s face, when it looked up at me from Richie’s body. He was in half-man form. His face was leopard, but not. Not human, but not animal either. I remember thinking, I should know what this is. But all I could think was a Monster. It’s a monster.” He licked his lips and drew a deep breath that shook when he let it out. “I had the rifle to my shoulder. I fired. I hit it. I hit it two or three times before it got me. It ripped me with its claws, and it wasn’t a sharp pain. It was like being hit with a baseball bat - hard, thick. You know you’re hurt, but it doesn’t feel like you’d imagine claws would feel - do you know what I mean?” 

“Yes,” said Harry working his way around Micah’s neck and drawing back to look at him. He didn’t need to elaborate. Micah had been there through a lot of it, but Harry knew he wanted someone to understand him. Someone to verbally communicate it to. This was probably the first time he ever relived that experience fully. 

“The rifle was gone in a second. I don’t remember losing it, but my arms wouldn’t work anymore. I lay there on the ground, with that thing above me, and I wasn’t afraid anymore. Nothing hurt, nothing scared me. It was almost peaceful. It’s how you talk about Death. How you’re so unafraid of it. I wasn’t afraid of it.” 

Harry caressed his face, and traced along his ears and down his neck once more, his leopardess copying him metaphysically. He said nothing. He didn’t need to. 

“After that it’s only snatches. I remember voices, being on a stretcher. I remember being put in a helicopter. I woke up in the hospital with Agent Fox on one side and my dad on the other.” Harry tugged his button down shirt open, and pressed a kiss to his smooth skin. “I’m so sorry, Harry. I- It scared me to see him, Baby. I know that sounds stupid, but it did. I didn’t expect it, and there he was…” Micah’s voice cracked. “I’m really sorry.” 

“Don’t apologize to me,” said Harry, pulling back to look at him. “You were very right.” 

“No.” 

“Yes. For as long as I can remember trouble has always followed me. I’m a freak of nature, and I can’t do anything about it. I can hide in a hut in the middle of nowhere for the rest of my life, and something would still come to me. I tried to hide. I was wasting away in an old dark house with only a dying house-elf for comfort and a shrieking portrait, and still trouble found me.” 

“You’re not a freak.” 

“Yeah, Micah, I am.” 

“No! I didn’t mean it.” 

“It’s okay. I’m not being self-deprecating. It’s a fact. I have to live with it, and I’m sorry I dragged you into it. I always worried about Edward most out of everyone. Worried that there was a limit I would someday reach. I never realized that maybe you had your own limit. So, I’m sorry for not thinking about how you felt.” 

Micah made a noise, and he rolled them until Harry was beneath him. He squeezed Harry’s wrists, and rubbed circles into the fur cuffs, and dragged his mouth up Harry’s chest to his lips to kiss. “I didn’t totally survive the attack, Harry. The wereleopard that attacked us ate as much of my uncle and Richie as it could hold, and left. Some hunters found us, and they were both doctors. I was dead, Harry. No heartbeat, no pulse. The doctors got my heart started again, got me breathing again. They patched me up as best as they could, and they got me to a clearing so a chopper could get me to a hospital. No one expected me to live.” He choked as he said this, and Harry wriggled his wrists from Micah’s clutching and began to stroke through his hair. 

“The wereleopard was a serial killer. He hit only hunters, and only after they’d killed an animal. The FBI put out a warning to hunters after we were attacked. Fox said they put it together as a serial case only a few hours before we were attacked. The first attack had been on a reservation where he was assigned.” 

“He solved it,” Harry murmured. 

“He caught the… monster. He was there when they killed it.” He let out another breath, and coasted his mouth up and down Harry’s neck. Sometimes his tongue would come out to flick as if tasting if he was real and if he was there. “I died, was brought back, survived, and healed. I healed so fast. Incredibly fast. Then a month later, I was the monster.” His voice was so sad when he said it that it broke Harry’s heart. 

Harry clenched him tight. How could Harry tell him that he wasn’t a monster? It was the thing that hurt him that was the monster? 

“I didn’t stop seeing myself as a monster until I met you,” Micah breathed softly. “First time I tasted your power, it was soothing. It was like I belonged to you.” 

“But I didn’t have the leopard in me then?” Harry was confused by this. 

“No, but maybe your relationship with Death isn’t so philosophical. Maybe it has a modicum of truth to it. I gravitated toward you because it felt right. And then you have a little boy. A little boy you loved that had werewolf quirks, and I still remember that night on Halloween when you told me to show him my eyes. Like you were so fucking proud of me.” 

“I was proud of you. I wanted Teddy to see strong and powerful shapeshifters. I wanted him to connect with them. I never wanted him to be ashamed of who or what he was.” 

“You didn’t want me to hide; and when I did, he changed his to look like mine. You were so nervous and embarrassed, but you didn’t cut him down when he mentioned that we smelled alike, and he assumed that we were together. I fell for you in an instant. I fell so hard in love with you, and I did not want to walk away. I watched you with him. I watched how you did everything you could to understand him, I watched how you feared his changing. But it wasn’t the shapeshifter that you were scared of.”

“It was his future pain I was scared of. I didn’t want him to hurt and break apart,” Harry confessed sadly. “It terrified me that he would have to go through that.” 

Micah nodded. “It was then, I truly began to understand myself. To understand that I was not a monster.” 

“Definitely not, Micah. You’re Teddy’s Papa. You can’t be a monster. I love you so much. Edward loves you and Jean-Claude loves you.”

“I love them too. It was you who brought us together,” said Micah. 

“Why would you think I would be bored of you?” Harry couldn’t help but ask. 

Micah shook his head. “Just ignore that. I was upset. I was doing anything I could to get rid of the pain and memories.” 

Harry frowned. “Normally I would, Micah. But… there had to have been something that made you say that. I was only worried about you.” 

“I know, Baby, and I think I let my imagination get the better of me.” But when Micah pulled back with a neutral expression that was a bit too Edward-like, Harry stared at him, and then he kept staring. “Don’t do that to me.” Micah groaned. “Can’t I just say I’m sorry and I didn’t mean it?” 

“Only for it to come back down the line? What if you said that in front of Teddy? Or Edward? He might shoot you.” 

Micah choked on his own laugh at that. “I guess I’m a bit jealous.” 

“Jealous?” Harry leaned up on his elbows. “Of what?” 

“Not being your King anymore. Not being your Alpha. You have an Ulfric and I like Marcus, but…” He tried to find the words, his face twisting a bit. 

“It was you guys who had the brilliant idea!” Harry couldn’t help but let his voice go a bit higher. “I didn’t want anything to do with it, and then you three are all like, yeah flirt with him, kiss him, knock the table into us so that I’m forced to kiss him!” Micah was snickering now. “You’re the ones who told me to shag him!” 

“Yes, we did, and at the time practicality told me that it was a superb idea,” said Micah. “But, then he started fitting in so well. Teddy looks to him now, asks him so many questions that he used to ask me. He doesn’t ask me much anymore. I know he’s going to be a wolf, but…” 

Harry shook his head. “Micah. You’re reading that all wrong. Marcus is  _ Uncle _ Marcus, and that’s never changed with Teddy. You are Teddy’s Papa. If Marcus went away tomorrow, Teddy might be a bit sad, might ask a few questions, but he would accept it. If you went away tomorrow, Teddy would never forgive you. He would cry for years to come and likely never trust anyone again.” Micah’s face held shock when Harry told him this. “And then so would his Parrain, and Edward really would track you down and shoot you.” 

“I’m sorry. I know it’s stupid.” 

“It’s not stupid,” said Harry. “I like Marcus, love him even. But, there will never be a replacement for you three. Jean-Claude my vampire, Edward my human, and you my Alpha.  _ My _ King and Nimir-Raj.” 

“And you are ours.”

But, Harry couldn’t help but wonder about that. Is this really what Micah wanted? “Is this really what you want?” 

“Yes.” 

“Are you sure? Please tell me now. It’s already going to hurt either way, and I may be able to smooth things over, but…” Harry made to roll out from under Micah only for the man to grab him and pin him down. “Micah?” 

“Please forgive me for what I said. It’s not your fault. You didn’t plan it. You had no idea who or what Agent Fox even was. You could not have predicted it, and I was just in so much shock and pain and wishing it would go away. But I see now that I had to face it sooner or later. I couldn’t keep running.” 

“...” Harry didn’t know what to say, and so he chose not to say anything. He was still a bit bruised and tender from Micah’s harsh words, but that wouldn’t stop him from loving the man. “I don’t want you to be around because you think you have to.” He sat up and drew his arms together, sitting like a pretzel on the bed. Micah was on his knees, eyes never leaving Harry’s face. 

“I know that. I want to. I need to be around. I need to be with you, Jean-Claude, and Edward. I need Teddy in my life. I can’t not have you in my life, Harry.” 

“I’ll take your word for it,” said Harry with a weak smile. 

“No, don’t do that to me.” Micah stroked his face. 

“Do what?” 

“Don’t take my words so seriously when I’m so upset that I talk out of my head.” 

“I’m trying not to, Micah, because I understand pain and suffering memories just as well as you do. Hell, I think all of us do. Jean-Claude has six hundred years, Edward is a few years shy of forty, and I am twenty-six. Just like you, all of us have suffered at some point in some way. I guess the question for everyone in our lives, including me, is when will enough be enough? How much more can we handle before we snap?” 

“If we do it together we won’t snap,” said Micah. “If we all stay together, and never separate. We can get through anything.” 

Harry so desperately wanted to believe that. Maybe he could, maybe he couldn’t.


	4. Chapter Four

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *tosses out actual book-related content and Edward from hiding spot*

Harry had gone to clean up in the bathroom, and Micah ordered them room service. He was so emotionally spent that he couldn’t form any words on his tongue. He grabbed the files to try a second read through, but his eyes kept raising to look at Micah who was setting the table. He couldn’t quite read the man’s face. 

“So, who is it you’re raising?” Micah asked, and Harry wondered if he truly cared. 

“Uhm, some bloke who was in federal prison.” 

“What for?” 

“No idea, there’s nothing here. Just looks like some regular ol’ Joe.” 

“A regular Joe who has the interest of the FBI. So much so that they can’t let him rest in peace?” 

“Hinky, huh?” Harry laughed. 

“Yeah, my Edward senses are tingling,” said Micah with a soft chuckle. Who needed spidey-senses when Edward was their lover? “You can call and ask.” 

“I’m already on a thin line. I’m here for raising, not investigation,” said Harry. 

“Your reputation precedes you.” 

“Sadly.” 

“You’re good, Harry. You’re good at what you do, and those who’ve had to work fifteen to twenty years can’t stand that you have such natural gifts.” 

“Laying it on thick are you?” Harry tried to fight the blush off his face. 

“Isn’t it true?” 

“No,” Harry scoffed and slammed the file shut. “We could just eat on the couch.” 

“No. At the table. You and me.” 

“I like the sound of that,” said Harry, setting the file aside. 

A knock at the door, and both of them could smell the food through the door. Micah crossed over, and looked out the peep hole just to be on the safe side. A few minutes later, and way too much money being tipped, Micah was pushing the cart into the room. 

Micah ordered a lot of dishes. “You need to eat. You don’t eat half as much as you should these days.” 

“It’s hard to keep up on everything,” Harry grumbled as he pulled the salad with grilled chicken. He tasted the vinegarette sauce before pouring it over top. Micah had the same thing, and they also had a fire-roasted chicken dish with rice and peppers. Harry wasn’t a big fan of order-out-rice as they generally didn’t make it the right way, but this was good. It had a sort of sweet honey like glaze over the chicken with only a touch of heat. 

He was starving. 

Harry was trying to find something that would lighten the mood. To be honest he was kind of at a loss, and so he focused on his meal while trying to stay out of his mind. He started to wonder if maybe they weren’t compatible alone together? That was kind of heart-wrenching to think about. 

“Sorry if I ruined everything,” said Micah softly. “I had this whole thing planned with just you and me, and I screwed it up.” 

“It’s okay. Memories can do that,” said Harry. “You can’t be expected to be perfect all the time Micah. Glad to know there’s a flaw in you somewhere. Makes me feel a bit better about myself.” 

Micah choked on the wine he had selected for their meal, and cocked his head. “I’m not quite Jean-Claude you know. I think he’s the only one who can do perfect.” 

“You haven’t looked in a mirror,” Harry grumbled. 

“Oh, I have flaws.” 

“Uh huh.” Harry wasn’t sure if he believed him. “You were probably, what is it again? Prom King? That’s right. You were probably Prom King every year in school.”

“Not at all. I wasn’t man enough to be voted Prom King. Girls liked football jocks.”

“But you went hunting, surely that counts as manly.”

“Sure, but my dad was also a local cop. Made me a bit too ‘goody-good’ for the dating scene. Many women, especially in high school, are superficial.”

“Sounds familiar actually,” said Harry leaning forward slightly. 

“Oh?” Micah tilted his head. “What was your time like?” 

“You know most of it. I had a much different school experience.” 

“Yes, but you don’t talk about many personal stories. You said you dated a girl?” 

“Technically two, but I don’t count it.” 

“Why not?” 

Harry made a noise. “Because I had no bloody idea what I was doing? I didn’t even care. All she did was cry on me. I told you about that.” 

Micah laughed. “Yeah, I still don’t understand what that means. How did you make her cry?” 

“I didn’t. I asked her out, she agreed, and she spent the whole time talking about her dead boyfriend. I should have felt something for the situation, but I was just embarrassed. Lets just say that all she wanted out of me was information about her dead boyfriend. She wanted to know if he talked about her in his last moments.” 

Micah’s eyes widened. “You’re kidding me?” 

Harry shook his head. “Nope. Her exact words. As if he has time for something so stupid when a bright green jet of light is rushing toward him.” 

“Now I don’t feel so crummy about my own experience. Holy Shit.” 

“Yeah, it was a nightmare, and then she got jealous over Hermione. Of all people! If anything she should have been jealous over Luna. At least Luna was a good sort, made me laugh. Hermione is like the sister you want to kick.” 

“Luna? I don’t think I know that name,” said Micah. 

“Luna Lovegood. A bit loopy, but she’s a great person and a friend. She sent me this.” He held up the chain around his neck. “She was the first one to really understand things that others didn’t. She saw her mother die when she was nine years old. A spell gone wrong, and I think she might be a bit sensitive to spirits and stuff like me. In fact, I wouldn’t be surprised if she did have animating abilities of some sort. She seemed to know things before they happened. Almost seer like. But, she was a comfort. A great friend. A lot of people were mean to her. No one understood her. I feel ashamed for not understanding her at first and being embarrassed around her until I learned the story. She stood by my side when she didn’t have to. She had no reason. No investment. No cause to follow me into near death and danger. But she did. She didn’t back down. She was taken by the Death Eaters and held captive because her father defied them. They ran a newspaper and refused to besmirch us and go with the Pureblood Propaganda.” 

Micah tilted his head. “Now I feel superficial.” 

Harry blinked at this. “What do you mean?” 

Micah shook his head and lifted the wine glass. “You call us flawless when all you are is good, Harry. You’re good hearted with compassion. I wonder how things might have changed if we’d known each other?” 

“I don’t know. I might not have talked to you,” said Harry. “I didn’t really interact with all the other students much until fifth year when I had to teach everyone.” 

“Teach?” 

“Mhmm, a Ministry bureaucrat tore through Hogwarts, and wouldn’t teach us a bloody thing. Voldemort had returned, they were denying it, and things had gone topsy-turvy overnight. I agreed to form a defense class for the students who wanted to defend themselves and pass their exams. It went well until we were caught out, but that little bit of defense went a long way come my seventh year that never was. So my high school equivalent experience was not exactly fun.” 

“But it shaped you. Now you’re ours.” 

“Yeah, how did that happen?” Harry asked grinning. 

Micah settled back. “Come over here.” 

“Hm?” 

“Come here!” 

Harry wondered what he was on about as he stood. Micah reached across the table and snagged his wrist, tugging him down onto his lap, and looping his arms around Harry’s slim waist. He pressed his nose into the nape of Harry’s neck. Their leopards rubbed up against each other, Micah’s still grovelling. He squeezed Harry tight. “I was never a Prom King sort. I was a very steady kind of guy. I was the boy next door. I did have a high school sweetheart. We dated through all of high school. We waited for sex because her older sister had gotten pregnant in high school, and it wrecked her life. I was okay with that. I planned to spend the rest of my life with her, so what was a year or more?” 

Harry shifted in Micah’s arms. “What happened?” he asked curiously. 

“What finally made her break up completely with me was me being a monster. She couldn’t love an animal.” 

Harry couldn’t keep the horror off his face. “You’re not a monster!” he said emphatically. 

He smiled small. “At the time I knew I was. I didn’t have control or understanding. I wasn’t a part of a Pard so I had very little understanding about what I was or what was in me or how to deal with it. It was rough, but being a shapeshifter was the last straw. Not the first one.” 

“What do you mean?” 

He had this embarrassed expression. “Remember you thought girls didn’t like me because of my height?” 

“Yeah?” 

“It wasn’t my height that was the issue. It was my size.” 

It took Harry a moment to roll this around in his head to get what he meant, and then he blinked and looked down at Micah who was grinning, despite the sort of melancholy story they were sharing. “Oh. You were too big?” he asked carefully. 

“Mhmm. Most talk and laugh about having a small dick. But having a big one also comes with its set of challenges.” 

Harry was kind of glad to be as normal as normal could get. But, he didn’t understand. “But, you have a nice cock.” 

“You were scared of it.” 

“Micah. Before you, I had only seen two fully erect cocks in all my life, not counting my own. Jean and Edward.” Micah stared at him. “I had no idea men’s cocks could get that big. So yeah I was a bit nervous, but the first thing I thought when I saw you was it was a pity you were straight. I’d like to take it.” Micah laughed out loud, and Harry flushed. 

Micah squeezed him again as though he were a teddy bear. “You’re too cute, Harry. Fuck. It’s hard to tell this story with you being so cute on my lap.” 

“You pulled me here. So, she didn’t like having sex with you?” 

“No.” 

“But, you’re like, amazing in bed. You’re…” 

“But you weren’t a virgin, and I wasn’t eighteen and a virgin, too.” 

Harry snorted. “Close enough. First was Jean-Claude, which I felt no amount of pain, but then I got Edward directly after. Both are a bit more than average, seven and a half or so and not two days later was Edward slamming me to the kitchen table and fucking me raw. He might not be huge, but his cock head is quite a bit thicker than the shaft. Jean-Claude being uncut was all one.” Micah was grinning. “It hurt at first, but damn it was nice. He had me every which way, and I was near virginal, very near.”

“And you liked it?” 

“I loved it.” 

“She didn’t. I hurt her. I didn’t mean to. I got better at it. More foreplay, more-- just better.” 

“I suppose there is a learning curve. It’s hard to find one when you have a six hundred year old vampire teaching you.” 

“Mhmm. But, Becky never really enjoyed me inside of her. We had sex, but I always had to be careful of her or she said it hurt.” 

“I don’t know much about women, except they have various sizes like men’s cocks. She could have been smaller in size or something.” He had overheard way too many conversations between Hermione and Christine. It was like they could talk in front of him as though he weren’t there at some points. 

“You think so?” 

Harry shrugged. “Like I said, I don’t know. I love it though, when you push into me.” 

“I love it too. I don’t have to hold back. I still remember you and Edward forcing me to fuck you hard. I was so scared. I could have ripped you or tore at you.” 

“But you didn’t.” 

“No, I didn’t. It was like you were perfect for my size. It’s like your body knows exactly what it’s getting and it shifts to accept it.” He shook his head.

Harry brought his shoulders up. “No idea why I do. So, did she ruin women for you or something?” 

“Nearly, but she wasn’t the only one, Harry.” 

“What do you mean?” 

“I’ve had dates in college where everything was fine until they saw me, all of me. Then they picked up their clothes and said no way.” 

“Really?” How could anyone say no to Micah?

He nodded. “It was either a really big plus or a really big minus with women. But most of them, even the ones who said yes, didn’t want a standard diet. I was like a novelty.” His voice held unhappiness the way it had held anger earlier. “Becky made me feel like a monster for wanting to hurt her, for wanting to be inside her, for wanting sex so badly I’d hurt her. Most of the women I dated made me feel the same way, or like I should have a dial on my hip and a battery case, like I was some sort of toy they’d bought in a sex shop. Just wind me up. If I slept with one of them, word would travel around the circles of girls and women. Most would want to try me if only for a challenge. Most would take bets and other shitty stuff.” 

Harry was in shock at the tale. He didn’t think people used each other in the magical world in that way. He was pretty sure that sex was a magical and very special intimate thing between a couple. It was something private, one on one sort of deal. “What made you even consider me then? You’re pretty much telling me you’re straight.” 

“I was straight. All through school, but being a shapeshifter changes things. It changes your chemistry. You crave sex as much as you crave meat, and being a wereleopard you also crave touch. You just want to be touched. My experiences with men vary from good to horrendous. But, only a couple of them were afraid of my size. Most of them saw it as a challenge, but no one ever wanted to stay, and those who did were so human, I had to be careful of sex with them. But, then smelling you, feeling you. It was like a spark. There you were wrapped around the Master of the City. You did not bow to anyone. You didn’t even bow to him. You were so confident.” 

“I really wasn’t.” 

“You were.” 

“I didn’t feel it,” said Harry.

“I still remember how you smelled when you were injured. How good you felt against my skin. How soft you were.” 

“I’m not a female,” Harry pointed out. 

“No. You’re definitely not.” Micah kissed Harry on the neck. “You’re you. I couldn’t stop touching you. Jean-Claude kept threatening to smack me on the nose. For the first time in a long time, I had no fear of being in you. It was like I couldn’t fear. I just wanted you. I wanted your smell, the way you tasted. You’re not like a lot of other male lovers, Harry. You’re much different.”

“How so?” Harry asked. “I don’t have much comparison. I’ve given a few times. I like it a lot, but I don’t know. I prefer the other way around. I guess I’ll let you call me a power bottom this once.” 

Micah chuckled and kissed Harry’s chin. “ Most of the guys who want it just want it for the bragging rights. To say they’ve done it. You’re an impossible boy, and usually anal is rough. A lot harder and more painful. Some try to say it’s just a male’s vagina. But it’s not. It’s also rare to orgasm during anal. Not many do. Some fake it to look good, but they don’t. Yet I can feel you spasming. I can feel your blood rushing and the way your heart-beat goes so fast. So you asked me once if I missed a woman? The answer is a resounding  _ no _ .” 

“Not sure what happens to me to be honest with you. I hope you don’t think I use you like a toy.” 

“No. You don’t know how to use anyone.” Harry ducked down and kissed Micah softly. “But now, it’s more than you. I have Edward and Jean-Claude. I don’t know how they snuck up on me.” Harry pulled back and gave Micah a blank stare causing the man to grin at him. “Stupid pondering, hm?” 

“Edward can sneak up wearing bright yellow and bells on his ankles, and you’d still never see him coming.” 

“Until he does,” said Micah smirking. “I’m an Alpha. We don’t typically like being dominated, especially during sex, but I like it from Edward. I really do.” 

“He’s an Alpha of a different kind,” said Harry. “You know when I came over here, I never once said, you know, maybe I should get me a group of men.” Micah chuckled. “It was so awkward and confusing for a long time. I had no idea what to do.” 

“I was used to the concept, shapeshifters are generally polyamorous, but I was never polyamorous. I always wanted one and one only,” Micah confessed. 

“I’m sorry.” 

Micah shook his head. “Don’t be. I didn’t realize how amazing a relationship like ours could be until we met the right ones. Now I couldn’t imagine not having Edward’s hands on me or Jean-Claude crawling over me, and then there’s you who like to crawl on our cocks and devour us. You are the lightning rod that drew us to you and each other. It wouldn’t work without you. All these Alpha’s. No matter the species. It wouldn’t work at all, but it does because of you.” 

“I’m a freak.” 

Micah glared. “No. You’re not.” 

Harry stared at him. “Sure about that?” 

“I didn’t call you a freak. Just called the situation, the universe a freak, Harry James Potter-Black. Not you.” And Harry could live with that as he looped his arms around Micah’s neck and squeezed him tight, and for a long time neither of them moved or let go. 

oOo

As far as Harry could tell Philadelphia was a pretty city. At least what little he had seen of it. Micah and Harry spent most of it in the hotel. Harry had been exhausted. He’d slept two hours, hopped on a plane, had a good amount of sex, and then got into an emotional upheavel. He wasn’t sure if he would call it a fight or not. It wasn’t like it was directed at him, Harry now understood this. It was mostly directed at the universe, and the way mother nature liked to kick a person where it hurt. 

She was an evil bitch at times, and she knew it. 

Fox and Franklin picked them up at seven o’ clock sharp. It was early spring, and so full dark was about seven thirty or eight, and because of the lack of moon it looked darker than it was. It was cool and crisp with a hint of rain on the edge. It was easy to smell, and the trees made shushing noises as the wind blew. That was when the thick Death Magic began to tingle from his head straight down into his toes. 

The best way for Harry to describe it would likely be a sensation of an orgasm very slowly building. Yeah, there was a reason that dark magic was so addicting. It was more than a drug. It was the feel of a never ending orgasm constantly pulsing, and once it overflowed, the payout was unlike any high he’d ever felt before. It’s a wonder more magicals didn’t accept their dark alignment.

The cemetery was old, and he could taste and feel it’s age gliding along his skin. Most of the ghosts had settled down, and only every so often he would spy a wisp in the distance. Micah kept a perfect walk directly behind Harry so as not to step on anyone’s graves. His fingers brushed the lovely cool marble. It was kind of like drinking an elixir of life. 

In all theories, no one could raise the long dead without a human sacrifice. Harry probably held the record for the oldest without one, and he’d been doing it more and more without blood. Voldemort had given him the building blocks, but Manny had been the one to teach him the normal animating way until Harry discovered that this wasn’t the only way. It wasn’t about the ritual. It wasn’t about the ointment and items used. All of this was merely a focus. Like a wand because the magic was there. It just needed to be pulled by the right focus. 

But, these days, Harry’s focus was so sharp. He could feel every inert corpse below ground. Most were likely dust and bones by now, but he could still feel their essence. He could still feel Death having laid them back to rest, and the magic was like a wash across his skin. 

Harry shivered as the magic played, and Micah was suddenly at his side. “Are you all right?” 

Harry only smiled at him, and he knew his eyes were lit up and intoxicated. Old cemeteries were always full to bursting with more life than those without sensitivity could ever know. Micah flinched when he accidentally stepped on a grave.

“Yi… sorry,” Micah yelped without realizing it. 

Harry chuckled softly. He had made a little dance that caused him to look so cute. Really, when he was in actual clothes, he was so delicate and cute looking. Goodness, if people only knew what he was like beneath his clothes. Fox looked confused, Franklin looked downright uncomfortable.  _ What was with him?  _ Harry wondered. 

“What happened?” 

“I walked on someone I think.” 

“Walked-?” 

“You ever feel a shiver in a graveyard?” Harry asked, still stroking each headstone. 

Fox nodded. “A few times. It’s an old saying.” 

“Sometimes if you walk on someone’s grave, and the grave is marginally active with death magic they will shoot up your leg as though warning you. _ Please stop walking on me _ .” 

He let out a snicker when a wisp shot up not even a foot where Micah had just been standing, and began to curse in a rather country sort of tone for Micah stepping on him. 

Micah’s eyes went really round. “I- er- sorry?” 

Franklin was glowering. 

Harry reached out with his hand and brushed the ghost causing it to pause and turn to stare at Harry. “Go back to bed.” It did a funny twirl, giggled, and then shot back into the ground making Fox actually flinch this time.

Franklin was shrinking back further, his eyes going narrow. He kept rubbing at his arms. 

“I felt that.” 

“He was cussing me out!” Micah squeaked. “I’m kind of impressed. I couldn’t see much. Just a wisp, but… I felt more than heard him.” 

“Told you, they get cranky when that happens. Unfortunately, this is a crowded graveyard, lots of bodies here.” 

“Most are dust by now,” Franklin ground out through his teeth. 

“True, but their spirits come to rest at night in the grave. It’s why animating is generally done at night,” Harry explained. “Bodies are just shells after all. It’s their essence that keeps them alive and suspended. Some move on, some never do.” Harry couldn’t quite figure out what Franklin’s problem was. First he was off at the scene in New Mexico, now he was being more closed off than just a few hours ago. Harry would be tempted to write it off as something case related, but not when there was New Mexico to consider. 

“Everyone’s waiting.” Fox reminded the group. 

“Guess we shouldn’t keep them much longer.” Harry smiled at Micah before closing his eyes and gliding forward. “Is he the newest in the graveyard?”

“Newest?”

“Most recent burial?”

“Yes, why?”

“Just to know what I’m feeling for.” Harry hummed stepping around a gravestone, eyes still closed. 

“It’ll be faster if I lead you instead of you ‘feeling’ for it.” Fox frowned. “Are you even looking where you’re going? How are you doing that?”

“I can feel them, I don’t need to see them.” Harry paused behind a grave. “How sad.”

“What?” Micah came up, paying even more attention to where Harry had stepped to not have a repeat ghost scolding. 

“A death of a child.” Harry sadly caressed the top of the grave before him. 

“How could you possibly know that?” Franklin asked disgustedly. “You had to have come here before.”

“I can feel his spirit. It’s young.” Harry finally walked around the grave and used a spurt of magic to conjure flowers to rest in offering. 

“We can’t keep judges and lawyers waiting. Come on.” Fox shuffled everyone along. “No more side excursions or stops, please.” It was kind of amusing how he came off as a concerned father or something. Harry supposed he might see Micah that way, but Harry? Oh yeah, he thought Harry wasn’t even a High School graduate. At least he didn’t sound condescending. 

“Your powers are getting stronger, Baby.” Micah said in concern. “You sure you should be raising tonight? Have you figured out how to keep it to the one?”

“They should have brought chickens for Larry. I can use those to make the circle instead of my blood.” Harry hummed.

“What about mine? Could it contain your powers better?”

“Not sure, you’re rather powerful yourself. It might amplify it instead. If you’re willing to spill it however, I’d be willing to try it out.” Harry mused. “However, it will be different than feeding Jean, you need to keep the blood flowing smoothly and evenly in the circle. Shifters heal quickly, could you keep cutting yourself enough times and fast enough to finish?” 

“I’d do so however many times you need it to happen.” Micah said seriously. “My blood, my everything, is yours. Just like you are ours.” 

Harry couldn’t help but pull Micah closer and give him a kiss for that. Fox might not like the little delay, but Micah deserved a kiss. “Let’s go raise Mr. Rose then.”

It didn’t take much longer to arrive at the grave, even with Harry walking with eyes closed. Harry continued along the many rows. It was a massive graveyard as far as cemeteries went. Most of the graves were generally quiet, though he could feel their stirrings and murmurings. He could also feel around inherently for the things they were buried with, and their bones and how brittle they were becoming as ten, fifteen, and even twenty years went by for them. Some were well into the hundreds, and then Harry remembered when Edward gave him a lesson about America, and how Pennsylvania was one of the original thirteen colonies. So it was no real surprise. He swayed, and almost bumped into one of the agents next to him, and he felt a tingle of familiarity and then he heard Agent Franklin’s voice suddenly tight with anxiety. “Stop it, Potter-Black.” 

Harry blinked his eyes open and turned to stare up at the large man. “Stop what?” 

“You shouldn’t mess with him, Baby,” Micah soothed. 

“I’m missing something,” said Fox. 

Harry thought about this for a moment. “Yes, yes you are,” he said, keeping eye contact with Franklin. Now, Harry wasn’t like Reynolds where he’d reach out and touch someone’s aura or any part of them in general, but considering Harry’s powers seemed to be growing. He no longer needed contact. He could feel that Franklin was different. 

He had magic in him, and it wasn’t outside magic. It was a touch of his kind of magic. Not enough to be considered a wizard, but he had enough to be sensitive. “I can’t help it. I’m not some third rate animator. Larry isn’t either, but his powers are still in their infancy. He still lets his chickens go after beheading them.” 

Micah snickered at this, and Fox blinked. “What do you mean? Are you all not equal?” 

“Are all FBI agents equal?” Harry threw over his shoulder. They were still walking. Just talking while walking. Harry was good at maneuvering between the graves, stepping over things. Micah kept mimicking him, and Fox seemed to be trying that. Franklin on the other hand continued to shiver, and more and more ghosts were getting agitated with him walking on them. “It’s the same with animators. I’m not being conceited, but I’m strong.” 

“That’s why your rates are four times his, hm?” Fox arched a brow. 

“How did you know that?” Harry didn’t list his prices. He didn’t like to do that. Especially if someone was in true need. He didn’t want to put them off. Bert didn’t like this. It was only a year ago that their company had started building a website. One of Harry’s wolves was a web designer, and so they had paid him a nice chunk of money to build them a professional site that listed information about them. Bert actually shelled out the money for it, seeing it as a great promoting tool. 

“Your boss called.” 

Harry snorted. “He’s not our boss anymore. Just a business manager.” 

“Why isn’t he your boss?” Franklin surprisingly was the one to ask this. 

“He’s complete pants at giving us appropriate clients, and he knows very little about what we do. He’s sent a lot of people who wound up in jail trying to cover up their misdeeds by using us.” 

“And he wasn’t fired?” Fox it seemed did not approve of Harry’s boss. Not many would. 

“He’s good with money. Not good with anything else. So he manages the paperwork that we have to do. We manage our own clients, and his cut of the money is safe.” Franklin actually laughed at this. “He’s not a horrible guy. Just an idiot if it’s not money.” 

“But why is it, Agent Franklin can feel your power?” 

“We’re standing right next to each other,” said Harry when he noticed Franklin seizing up a bit. “It’s no surprise. He’s also got ghosts jumping up at him, probably crawling up his spine.” 

“Stop it,” Franklin hissed. 

“Just walk where I walk.” 

“You’re too small,” Franklin grunted. 

Harry made a face, and Micah snickered. As they continued their set pace, Harry’s magic continued to bubble with each step he took. He was now about to hit the fresher graves, the ones that had died within the last couple of years, and so the magic was really spiking to the point that Micah hissed, and Franklin was bristling. He was once again pulling at his tie, and adjusting the cuff links on his sleeve. 

“Baby, you’re having trouble controlling your power tonight, aren’t you?” 

“I don’t know. A bit,” said Harry quietly. “Just extra strong here. Maybe it’s you being with me. I don’t know.” 

“You really sure you should be raising the dead?” 

“It’s not going to be hard.” 

“You do realize you’re touching every stone you walk by?” 

Harry nodded. “I’m aware. I can’t help it. I’m drawn to them as they are to me.” It wasn’t like Harry could help it. His powers were growing, and he might as well work to get used to it now. 

They soon arrived at the graveside, and were introduced to everyone. A Judge, court reporter which wasn’t that unusual for him, but definitely a first for her from the way she was so twitchy. There were lawyers on one side who were very unhappy with Harry the moment they saw him. How relieved they must have been when Rose died quietly of natural causes before he could testify. And yes, that was sarcasm because reading the file... Harry didn’t believe a word of it. But, that’s okay. As long as he knew he wasn’t murdered. 

Arthur Salvia was the head lawyer on the side that wasn’t happy to see him. Harry never watched the news except just in passing. Draco was more into pop culture. Hermione did keep up on it, and Edward every so often. But he preferred to read the news rather than have it spat at him.

“Your honor, I must protest again. Mr. Rose died before he could testify in court. The testimony of a dead man is not admissible.” 

_ Man had balls _ , Harry thought. 

“I get to say what is admissible, Mr. Salvia. You’ll get your chance to cross-examine the witness.” He frowned and turned to Harry. “That is correct, Mr. Potter-Black? The zombie will be able to be cross-examined?” 

“Yes, your honor. The zombie will be able to answer questions and respond to cross-examination.” 

He nodded, satisfied. “There, Mr. Salvia. You will get your chance to cross-examine Mr. Rose.” 

“Mr. Rose is dead, your honor. I renew my objections to this entire proceeding--” 

_ Merlin, he has a lot of nerve _ , and the Judge held up his hand. “Heard and noted, Mr. Salvia, but save the rest of your objections for the appeal.” 

Salvia settled back. He was not happy. 

Micah leaned in very close to Harry’s ear and whispered. “He smells like fear.” 

Harry tilted his head. “Oh really?” Now that was interesting. Did he have a fear of zombies? That was common, and would incite nervousness. But fear? The wheels were turning like a cog in his head as he observed the twitchy little man. Something wasn’t adding up, and he didn’t have enough information to figure out what. 

There was a wire mesh cage over to one side with a chicken in it. The bird clucked softly to itself, making the sleepy noises chickens make when they’re settling down for the night. Larry would have needed it, but Harry didn’t. 

“Could you explain what you’re about to do so we’ll understand what’s happening and for Elaine-Ms. Beck to get it in court record?” He motioned at the dark-haired woman at her little folding stool and table. 

“Sure,” said Harry, trying not to show visible surprise. No one had ever really asked him how he did it. But he supposed it was an understandable question from a Judge’s point of view. “First, I’ll do a circle of protection.” 

Salvia chose that moment to butt in. “I have a question for Marshall Potter-Black.” Something about this guy was very hinky. 

“He’s not a witness, Mr. Salvia,” said the Judge. 

“But, without his abilities, this testimony would be impossible to retrieve. Is that not true, your honor?” 

The Judge seemed to think about that for a second or two. “Yes, but all I’ve asked of the marshall is that he explains the mechanics of what he is about to do. That isn’t witness testimony.” 

“No, but he is an expert witness, the same as any other forensic expert.” 

“I’m not certain that an animator is a forensic expert, Mr. Salvia.” How the Judge had such patience was beyond Harry.

It was as the Judge pondered over this that there was a soft shuffle from beside them. “Have I missed something, Little Raven?” 

Harry’s eyes widened, and he and Micah whipped their heads around to see Edward standing there. He was wearing a Federal Marshall blue jacket with yellow gold lettering on the back. He had a pair of blue jeans and a thigh holster. Likely for emphasis on what he was. His rectangular orange lens glinted beneath the starlight. Merlin, being beside both of these men was making his power rise higher as his skin became too warm, and the dead all around him began to stir. It was as though they were excited. 

“Ted!” Harry managed to catch himself. 

“Told you I would be here.” Harry could already see Fox and Franklin frowning. But didn’t dare interrupt the proceedings. No one else seemed to notice or care that Edward was standing there. Then again he was a Federal Marshall, and the Judge was probably guessing that he belonged. But Harry did notice Saliva looking a bit more withdrawn when he saw Edward. His eyes flickering quickly from one to the other. 

Micah leaned around. “That guy’s fear just spiked when he saw you.” 

“I wonder why?” Edward drawled. He had his arms behind his back. 

Finally, the Judge seemed to realize the trap that his little request had gotten them all into. “I will concede that Marshall Potter-Black is an expert on raising the dead.” 

Laban, the head attorney for the other side said. “I think we’ll all agree to that. What is the defense’s point?” 

“If he’s the expert witness, then I should be able to question him.” 

“But he’s not giving testimony,” said the Judge. “He’s explaining what he’s doing so we’ll be able to follow along.” 

“How is that different from collecting any other evidence?” Salvia queried. “If he were any other expert, I would be allowed to question his methodology.” 

Harry glanced at the lawyer, his suspicion growing, but he didn’t know why. Why was he dragging it out? Salvia was much taller than Harry, and he stood straight for every inch of it. But his stance was more aggressive, as if he were squaring himself for an attack. 

_ “Something is off, Little Raven.” _

_ “Yep. Shall we draw it out?”  _

_ “I did an initial search of the perimeter. All clear. So there must be something he is waiting on.”  _

Once upon a time, Harry had testified a few times, particularly when a lawyer got clever and tried to win an appeal on a zombie who had said his will was real, and not the other one. Harry had even been called into court for an insurance company on the grounds that the dead were not competent to give testimony. Harry had stopped getting dragged into court to defend himself after he offered to bring the zombie into court to give open court testimony. The offer had been accepted. 

It had made the papers, and the media made much of the fact, particularly when Harry’s zombie back then had been more zombie like. In fact, it had been the beginning of a countersuit for mental distress. The insurance company would eventually pay more in the second suit than in the original life insurance claim. Everyone had learned their lesson, and Harry got to stay in the cemetery and out of the courtroom. 

“Your honor,” said Harry. “May I ask Mr. Salvia a question?” 

The judge gave him a long, considering look, then nodded. “I’ll allow it.” 

“Mr. Salvia, would you say that most evidence is open to interpretation depending on which expert you get to interpret that evidence?” 

He considered that for a moment. Most lawyers won’t answer questions fast, especially not in court. “I would agree with that statement.” 

“If I were here to collect DNA or some other physical evidence, my actions might be open to scrutiny because my method of collection would impact how reliable my evidence was, correct?” Micah had a look of surprise, but Harry resisted elbowing him. Really, he knew how to do diplomacy. 

“I would agree, which is why I need to question your methods, so I can understand them well enough to represent my client.” 

“But Mr. Salvia, what I’m about to do is not open to interpretation of any kind.” 

He turned to the Judge. “Your honor, he is refusing to explain his methods. If I don’t understand what the marshall is doing, then how will I be able to adequately defend my client?” 

“Marshall Potter-Black. I’m sorry that I opened this issue with my requests for information, but I can see the defense’s point.” 

“It’s fine, your honor. I would see his point, too, but may I make one more point before you rule on whether the defense gets to question my every move?” 

“I won’t allow him to question your every move, Marshall,” he said with a smile that even by moonlight seemed self-satisfied.”But I will allow you to make your point.” 

“If I raise Emmett Rose from the dead tonight, you’ll be here to see it, right, Mr. Salvia?” Harry didn’t want anymore stalling so he personally looked at the tall man. “I will repeat before you can ask me. If I raise Emmett Rose from the dead tonight, you will be here to see it, right?” 

“Yes, yes, I concede that, but I still don’t see..” 

“Would you say that the zombie rising from the grave is open to interpretation?” 

Salvia opened his mouth, closed it. “I’m not sure I understand.” 

The Judge said. “Marshall Potter-Black has made his point. Either the zombie will rise from the grave or it won’t. We will all be here to see the zombie either rise or not rise. It isn’t open to interpretation, Mr. Salvia. Either he will do what he’s being paid for, or he won’t. It either works or it does not.” 

“But the ritual he chose to raise the dead could affect the ability of Mr. Rose to give testimony.” 

“No.” 

“No what?” asked Saliva before the Judge could intercede. 

“It does not affect in any way his ability to give testimony. It’s like the difference between you and your second switching to cross-examine. All roads lead to the same thing. You are going to cross-examine, either way, and how it's done is usually not argued. It’s like talking while sitting or standing up. Emmett Rose will be the same no matter who raises him.” He might be uglier, but he would still be the same. 

Mr. Salvia was now twitching. Very upset by Harry’s perfect analogy, the Judge seemed satisfied. He seemed to realize that he wouldn’t get too much further with this, and so he did a full change. “How does the chicken help?” 

“I don’t need the chicken now. All animations require a bit of blood. Most would use a chicken for someone as young as Emmett Rose. But it does not matter what you use so long as blood is involved. Once again, it will lead to the same thing.” 

“Your honor,” Salvia began. “Why does Marshall Potter-Black need a protective circle?” 

Before anyone could ask that Harry was already speaking. “Because I am the power that draws the dead out, and to keep anything else from being drawn into me during the rising phase, I need the circle so that Emmett Rose is the ONLY one we raise tonight. Unless you wish for the entire cemetery to rise.” That had everyone’s attention. Salvia’s eyes staring at him slightly wide. “I am the conductor. I am the rod that draws all the dead toward me. Even now I can hear and feel them nearby, and when I call them they will rise. All of them. Every last person in this cemetery who has been dead will rise.” 

“Impossible.” 

“Not. It’s like the difference between a lawyer who has never lost a case, and a lawyer who has only won one. Anyone can be a lawyer. Not anyone can be an animator. It does not matter the kind of blood I use. The chickens are here because the one who was originally supposed to be here needed them. I  _ don’t _ .” 

“But you have to have a sacrifice,” Salvia argued. 

“I do. But I have enough power that I don’t need to kill anything to get that sacrifice. Is that good enough, your honor? I have explained my methods as best as I can for someone to understand. All rituals are made tailored depending on the power of the animator.” 

“Are you trying to rush the proceedings?” Salvia demanded. 

“No. I am trying to do my job,” said Harry, keeping calm. 

“I agree with Marshall Potter-Black. He was sent here to do his job, and nothing more. I believe the court has it on record what they need to know. Marshall Potter-Black you can proceed.” 

“I must protest-” 

“You’ve made that clear, but I overrule,” the Judge said sternly. “Marshall Potter-Black, you can now proceed.” 

“Thank you.” 

“Little Raven, you can’t use yours.” Edward spoke up as Harry turned from the Judge to look at the grave. 

“Micah’s offered his.”

“You really think that will help?”

“Got a better suggestion?” Micah asked. “Figured the alpha would be strong enough to contain it.” 

“It’s not containing it that is the problem. In a way you are both considered magical.” He didn’t want to say preternatural for the reporter to pick up on. “Looks like I must assist, hm?” He jerked off his jacket in one movement. 

“What is going on?” intervened Salvia. 

“I am offering my blood for this ritual.” 

Everyone paled. “You can do that?” 

“Yes, you can,” said Harry. “Normally I use my blood. But with such a fresh death, using my blood might very well stir this whole graveyard into rising even with the protective circle.” 

“So then the protective circle is useless?” 

“It’s not, and that is why I am using his blood.” 

“How is his blood supposed to help?” 

“He’s fully human and carries no animator powers. It will act as a counter balance to my overcharge.” Harry shrugged, no need to go into why he couldn’t use Micah. 

“Why not just use the chicken, Mr. Potter-Black? It’s why it was brought here for Mr. Kirkland.” Agent Fox asked. 

“Also for the record who is your new assistant?” 

“Federal Marshall Ted Forrester,” Edward said. “We believed I would be a better choice than his other assistant as I am a Marshall myself.” 

“A chicken’s blood is not strong enough.” Harry answered the original question. 

“I’m not certain I follow, please explain for the court records.”

“ _ Careful, Baby. _ ”

“ _ I know. _ ” Harry took a moment to think of a good example. “Would you agree that a wide elastic holds a thick stack of papers together better than a thin one?”

“Elastic?”

“He means rubber band.” Edward offered with a grin and shrug. “Brits don’t speak American well.”

“Right, rubber bands. Would you agree that a wide rubber band holds a thick stack of papers together better than a thin one?” Harry shot Edward a look for his ‘assistance’. 

“Yes. Generally speaking they hold up better.”

“Great. Animators come in different levels of skill, using the stacks of paper metaphor, Larry’s power on his own would be like a stack of 25 sheets. A new death like Mr. Rose would only require those sheets to be bound together for a few minutes. A circle made of chicken’s blood, a thin rubber band, is strong enough to hold it together for a few minutes. But let’s say that Larry had to raise someone 10 years dead. That requires more power, the hold to last much longer. A thin rubber band would be stressed and worn away, unless joined by another band ‘chicken’ or replaced by a thicker one ‘goat’. Does everyone follow?”

“No-”

“Yes.” The judge interrupted before Salvia could finish his protest. “Continue with the explanation.”

“I’m much stronger than Larry, it’s why my rates are typically 4x everyone else in the office. I would be like a stack of 100 sheets.”

“More like 400 sheets.” Edward interrupted. After thinking about it for a moment, Harry had to concur. 

“400 sheets. A thin ‘chicken’ rubber band would snap and scatter the sheets. Even a ‘goat’ could barely hold them.”

“Are you suggesting a human sacrifice Marshall Potter-Black.” The judge asked. Harry was surprised, not many outside of his profession would even make that leap. 

“Not at all, Ted won’t die in the procedure, Judge. That is both illegal and I love him too much.” Harry couldn’t help but feel a little sappy as he replied. “But willingly spilt human blood helps strengthen the rubber bands. I would historically use my own blood; however, I’ve recently seen an increase in my animating abilities and am still working on the finer pieces. Ted has no animating abilities so is offering his to be the thick band holding my sheets. My powers need to be contained. Unless everyone is okay with the entire cemetery rising.”

He saw the court reporter shuddering. Salvia was looking at him wearily. Even he could see the rise in the man’s blood pressure, and even in the dark that thick vein in the neck pulsed. Micah sniffed as if to tell them what they already know. What was going on?

“Besides, this way the chicken’s life is saved,” Micah piped in. “I don’t see anything wrong with that.” 

“Can I please proceed?” 

“Yes, Marshall Potter-Black, proceed before we need to camp out,” said the Judge. 

Not wanting to use Edward’s hand, he took out the glittering jeweled athame, and made a very thin slice across the forearm. The blade caught the heavy drops of blood, and a calm sensation began to pull around him. Harry felt it drain like a ripple of water. It bubbled and began to drip. Harry and Edward walked a full, even circle around the gravestone. 

Micah had stepped back so as not to interfere with the power as he felt it flow and fluctuate. Edward’s blood flowed, the female reporter was gasping as it drained out of him like Harry tipping over a water jug. But the moment they finished the circle, Harry brushed his finger along the wet cut, it began to seal, and the moment he dropped his hand the bleeding stopped. 

Harry backed away with the dripping athame held loosely in his palm, and he felt no more dead whispering. It was strong, but he had control, and he realized looking at Edward that this man was his control. Micah would have made him unleash it all. Edward contained him. Contained what was inside of him, and it allowed him to work as a focus. His senses sharpened to the point that he could smell the small and furry creatures sitting in the trees. He could hear the birds in their nests. He could feel every rush of wind as though it were an individual thread. 

A hyper awareness that Edward had always possessed. A cool wash of death. 

Edward’s power was in Death. It was a calm death to Harry’s more chaotic death. He’d never used anyone else’s blood like this. And because Edward was still well and truly alive, so was the power. It was rich and thick. It was sharp at the edges. Edward felt like a bubbling shield. A protection that cast over him. One large extra strength protego. It stopped all from getting in his circle. So clear. He was cold to Micah’s heat. He was as cold as the dead. He was calm. 

Everything after that was almost automatic. He reached the center of Emmett Leroy Rose’s grave, and he sank down and plunged his hand into the soft, turned earth. “Emmett Leroy Rose please rise for your master.” 

The ground beneath Harry’s feet shivered beneath him, and he turned to see Franklin of all people staring at him with wide imperceptible eyes, and in that moment he could taste Franklin’s power. Shit! He had a lot of untrained power inside of him. So much so that if he’d trained it, it could be almost as strong as Harry’s. Micah was holding himself back with the help of Fox who had a hand on his arm to keep him in place. Edward was standing straight up. 

_ “Is this what you feel, Little Raven?”  _

_ “Something like that. Never this clear or calm. My power is chaos. Your blood is so calm, quiet. Cold. You really are Death’s avatar, Edward. You have a grip on me that keeps the control.” _

_ “Good to know. What would Micah’s have done?”  _

_ “Might have been a nuclear bomb connected to mine.”  _ Harry confessed. 

Micah let out a funny noise in their minds.  _ “In essence, Edward is the iceberg, and you are the titanic?”  _

Maybe, if Harry knew what that was. 

_ “The Titanic went under, Alpha. I think I bring balance rather than tipping him over like you and the Toy.”  _

Harry knew that Micah and Edward could feel Emmett below, felt his rotting body in it’s coffin, inside the metal of its burial vault. Trapped underneath more than six feet of earth, but he was coming to call. He came at Harry like a thief in the night. He rose up, up through the deep, black water out of death’s realm and into Harry’s. He reached for Harry who plunged his hands into the shifting dirt. Always before, Harry had stood on the grave, but never in it. It didn’t feel like he was touching dirt or the earth. It was warmer, more like a very thick liquid, and yet that wasn’t it either. It was folds of shadows, Death’s slumbering realm that Harry had reached in. He pulled Rose like a drowning victim, and straight up, he came out as though the earth was water rather than dirt. 

He stood on his grave with his fingers still entwined with Harry’s and it felt so natural for it to be like this. There was no pulse to his skin, no beat of life, but when he stared down at Harry, there was something in his dark eyes. 

There was intelligence and a force of personality that shouldn’t have been there until Harry put blood on his mouth. The dead do not speak without help from the living, one way or another. At least, this was what Harry believed. 

He was tall and broad, his skin the color of good, sweet chocolate. He smiled down at Harry in a way that a few of Dominga Salvador’s errant zombies had, but they had tasted Harry’s blood back then. 

Harry stared down at his hands, still clasped with him, and he realized that his hands had been covered in Edward’s blood when he plunged them into the dirt. 

He realized then that Harry had used their blood to penetrate Death’s Realm. He had sank through it, he’d used Edward’s blood to get inside, and pull Rose. 

Voices were speaking, gasping, and exclaiming, but it was all distant and less real than the dead man who held Harry’s hand. A cold and calm power flowed between them. 

“Emmett Leroy Rose, can you speak?” Harry asked, and his voice echoed out through the graveyard like a thick soprano cord being played on a piano. 

Salvia once again interrupted him, and Harry longed to turn back and plunge his athame into the man’s jugular. If only to shut him the fuck up. “Marshall, this is highly irregular. We were not ready for you to raise Mr. Rose from the grave.” 

“We were ready,” said Laban. “Because the rest of us want to go home before dawn.” 

“It doesn’t matter, when the power calls. You answer it,” said Harry flatly. “Like when your boss calls. You have no choice.” Really. Death was his boss in the end, so that was kind of perfect. Pity it would be lost on everyone but Edward and likely Micah. 

Rose’s head turned slowly toward Salvia’s voice, and his first words were. “Arthur, is that you?”

Salvia’s protests stopped in mid-syllable. His eyes were wide enough to flash their whites. “Should it be able to do that? Should it recognize people?” 

“Of course. As it is in life, so should it be in death,” said Harry automatically. “Especially if you played a significant role. The dead also do not know anything more than the truth. They cannot speak lies.” He wanted that on record, and Saliva was now twitchy. 

_ “He going to do something. How did this guy die?”  _ Edward asked sliding quietly into a position more agreeable. 

_ “Said natural causes, but I didn’t believe it. Didn’t have enough evidence to prove this though.”  _

Rose dropped Harry’s hand. He moved toward Salvia’s side of the circle. “Why, Arthur? Why did you order Jimmy to put the boy’s body in the car?” 

“I don’t know what this thing’s talking about! I didn’t do anything. He was a pedophile. None of us knew it.” But Salvia’s words were a little too fast. Harry knew now why he’d been trying to delay the zombie-raising. 

Rose stepped forward, fury like Harry had never seen in a zombie before. “Me? A pedophile? You sick bastard! You knew that George’s son was a fucking child molester. You knew, and you helped cover for him. You helped get him his kiddies, until he got too rough and killed that last one!” 

Oh boy. 

“You’ve done something to his mind, Marshall. He’s babbling.” 

“No, Mr. Salvia. I told you. The dead do not lie, they tell the whole truth, and nothing but the truth,” Harry clarified. 

Rose had come to the very edge of the circle. “The moment you had Jimmy put the boy in my car, I was dead, Arthur. You might as well have put a bullet in me!” Oh dear. The circle held, but Harry winced as he felt it push against him. 

“Fox!” Harry called quickly, and Fox was on the move quickly coming over. “You said in the report that he died of natural causes?” 

Fox came to stand a little closer to the circle, but not closer to Rose. It was as if he found the dead man a little unnerving. “He did. Heart attack. Not poison or anything like that. A heart attack.” 

“You swear it?” 

“I swear.” Fox was wide-eyed. “What’s going on?” 

“Why put Georgie’s last victim in my car, Arthur?” Rose continued. “What the fuck did I ever do to you? I had a wife and kids, and you took me away from them the moment that body went in my car!” 

“Oh no.” 

“What is it?” asked Fox. 

“He blames Salvia for his death. Not the pedophile that hurt the kid.” 

“Is that bad? You’d think he’d blame the guy who put the body in his car?” 

“He blames Salvia because that’s who ordered it done. He is the instrument.” 

“You sound scared, Baby. Why?” Micah asked. 

Harry however spoke to Fox, trying to keep his voice low and not attract the zombie’s attention. “A murdered zombie always does one thing first and foremost when they come out of their grave; it kills its murderer. Until its murderer is dead, no one can control it. Not even me.” 

Fox gave Harry wide-eyes, Edward was already whispering something to Franklin as he fished into one of the hidden spots of his jacket. Likely for the handheld flamethrower. “Rose wasn’t murdered. He died of a heart attack.” 

“I told you, the dead don’t lie. They tell it and feel it as they know it. Arthur caused him the stress that was strong enough to give him a heart attack. The heart attack was simply the murder weapon, Arthur the holder of the weapon. It’s like that case in Britain two years ago. A man used suicide to kill his victims.” 

“How did he do that?” asked Franklin in surprise. 

Harry had been called for a consult, when one of the suicide victims had been a squib from a magical family. “I was called in to raise a suicide victim from Great Britain. There had been a string of them, and they wanted to know why. It wasn’t teenagers copycatting. It was full grown adults just dropping dead from some poison that never stayed in the system long enough to identify. But as it was illegal to use necromancy in Britain, your version of the Feds got smart enough to get around the law by having the victim buried over here. 

“Come to find out the serial killer gave him an option. Take the poison or be shot. They thought the poison would let the victims live. He did not consciously choose suicide, and so when he realized what had killed him. He caused serious issue. Silver bullets won’t work. It’ll only slow him down. Only fire.” He nodded toward Edward who already had a portable flamethrower in his hand. “If he breaks the circle… it’s going to be mayhem. He’s supped on my power and Ted’s human blood.” Fox was already calling in for backup. “Only good thing is to be glad this isn’t Marshall Larry Kirkland. It would have broken, and he would have been pure zombie. Right now, he’s more human and agreeable. But… push him. He might break it down.” 

Rose was now screaming repeatedly. “Why Arthur!” He kept trying to get out of the circle. Pushing hard making Harry stagger at the pull on his own powers. 

“Emmett Leroy Rose, I command you to stay!” He threw his hands out to keep the circle from breaking. Rose kept trying to move forward, and the circle was no longer a wall. It was folding outward, Harry could feel it. Harry built up his power and tossed it around the circle. Franklin let out a staggering noise. “No!” Harry commanded sharply. 

The dead man stopped and turned to him. “Please, let me out.” 

“I cannot do that. You must stay here.” 

“He killed me.” 

Harry moved to stand closer to the zombie aware of Edward warning him. “Little Raven…” 

“Mr. Rose. You need to control yourself. If he’s dead, he’s only dead. Nothing more. What happened to you was terrible. But taking the law into your hands will do nothing more than breed more men like him. Don’t be like him. Be better than him.” 

“How dare you call my character into question!” Salvia spluttered causing Rose to turn and snarl at him. 

Harry glared. “Really? You want me to stop?” 

“Please don’t,” said Fox suddenly. He seemed to realize that Harry was getting control of the zombie. A zombie that would be immune to everyone but one lone person here, and Harry of course. 

“You’re threatening me!” 

“No. I’m trying to protect everyone here, Mr. Salvia.” 

“I’m not a righteous man,” Rose sneered and then he laughed bitterly. “I took money. I knew it was dirty. I told myself that as long as I didn’t do the illegal stuff, it was okay. But it wasn’t. It wasn’t okay.” He turned back to Salvia. “I may not have been a righteous man, but I did not know what Georgie was doing to those kids. I swear to God, I didn’t know. And you had that boy put in my car. Did you see the boy before Jimmy moved him, Arthur? Did you see what Georgie had done to him? He ripped him open! Ripped him open!” 

And he hit the circle, so hard that Harry screamed out as the power swelled like a migraine, and it pushed in a blind rage into the edges of the circle causing it to start folding inward. “No!” Harry lurched. “Emmett Leroy Rose as the Master of Death I order you to remain where you stand!” 

Rose’s spine straightened as if a magical hand had come out of the ground and smacked him on the back. “Please, Master! Please let me out! I have to make this right! I have to. I just have to!” 

“Get down, Little Raven!” Edward’s voice had come a second too late. Harry had no time to drop as something hit him square in the arm. It hit him so hard that it spun him around, and he fell on all fours. His arm had gone numb, and it was bleeding causing the power to begin to build all around them as chaos began to move.

Micah rushed forward to stand before Harry, standing between him and where the shot had come from. Edward had taken off at a run in the direction of the gunshot. Fox right behind him when a second bullet hit the gravestone behind Harry. A sharp ping sound. 

Salvia was screaming. “Don’t shoot him! Don’t shoot him, you idiot! The zombie is up-- don’t shoot him now! It won’t do any good!” 

Harry scrambled around the tombstone, putting it between him and the shoot. “Micah!” Harry cried out as the feeling began to return. It was like a thousand white-hot needles had seared into him. A Cruciatus Curse feel that was located in one part of his body. He gritted his teeth as the magic continued to amplify. 

Gunshots sounded in the distance, and everything was chaos. He tried to see Micah, to pull him around, and he resisted flinching when Rose bent his large dark shape over him. “Master, please let me out.” 

Harry’s eyes darted around the scene. “You know you will be punished by Death if you do?” He whispered quietly. 

“I deserve it.” He pulled Harry when Micah let out a growl. 

“It’s okay, Micah. He won’t hurt me,” said Harry. “Only Salvia. Got it?” 

Rose nodded. “I’ll protect you for getting the truth out, master.” 

“Go, but don’t make it look like it was easy.” He smeared his blood across the mouth of Rose, and the zombie turned and rammed into the invisible circle causing Harry to collapse from the power break smashing into him. 

“HARRY!” His head hit the marble stone of Rose’s grave, and before the world could disappear in a velvet of black he couldn’t help but wonder what that rumbling sensation happened to be.


	5. Chapter Five

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Final Chapter!

It was not unusual for Harry to awake not knowing where he was, but seeing a white ceiling with rectangular fluorescent lights, Harry knew immediately that he was in the hospital especially with the scent of intense hospital cleaners. On top of that, there was a smell of roses and other flowers. Micah’s fingers were carding through Harry’s hair, his leopard curled around Harry’s sleeping, and Edward was right beside him. His left arm was taped down to a little board and there were needles and tubes going into it. His right arm was bandaged like a mummy, and in the corner of the room he saw a florist shop had been left complete with mylar balloons. On the other side sitting on top of a counter nearby was a fancy display of red wine roses with a single dyed blue rose in the middle. He knew instantly those were from Jean-Claude. 

“How are you feeling?” Micah asked pausing in his ministrations as Edward reached for one of the cups with the little bendy straws. Harry took a drink of it, and almost gagged at the stale and metallic taste, but his throat loosened from the glue-like quality it’d been. 

“How long?” 

“Forty-eight hours, Little Raven,” said Edward. 

“What happened?” 

Just then the door opened. A doctor, nurse, and to Harry’s surprise Jean-Claude swept into the room. It must be late at night. 

“Jean!” How was he here? He hoped the Master of the City wasn’t about to get in trouble. 

“Mon Amour.” He stood there in all his absolutely luscious glory wearing a pair of hip-hugging leather trousers with velvet black boots to his knees. His shirt was frothy and at first it looked black, but once reflected in the light lovely midnight eyes became even bluer with how the shirt would barely shine blue. A spill of curls winding down his shoulders and resting at his back and chest that was white and exposed, muscles and that burned cross above his nipple. He had the pendant that Harry had made for him strung around his neck. 

He was not surprised that the nurse kept flicking her eyes at him and then turning a voluminous shade of red in the cheeks. Jean-Claude was immediately at the side of his men, touching them both before leaning down to kiss him on the forehead. 

“Is it okay you’re here?” 

“More than okay.” Harry moved his right arm, and found that it did work. 

The doctor’s name was Nelson and the nurse was Debbie. Nurse Debbie, apparently, which reminded Harry of a bad joke about an old porn movie that Zane used to like to talk about as his ‘first experience’. He had been banned from talking about it when Edward shot him in the arse in punishment for mentioning it around Teddy. 

He gave Harry a wonderful smile, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. Dr. Nelson was a short and frumpy sort of man with most of his dark hair receding around his face that looked young. “It’s good to see you awake, Marshall Potter-Black. Can I call you, Harry?” He was probably weirded out by how young Harry looked. 

“Yep. I prefer it,” said Harry genially. 

“Good.” 

Micah handed him some more water only for Jean-Claude to titter. “Non, that is bad. I have Jason bringing fresh water.” 

“It’s just water, Jean-Claude.” Micah rolled his eyes. 

“You know how excessive he can be,” Edward remarked. 

“Jason’s here?!” Harry couldn’t help but perk. Jason was one of his favorite people and sometimes a temporary lover. But he was more what he considered Harry’s best friend. He adored Jason. If you wanted to smile, Jason was the man who owned that ability. 

“Oui. How can I go anywhere without him?” He chuckled richly, and once again Nurse Debbie was seeing stars in her eyes. Yeah, his chuckles were more like a rich chocolate. 

That was when Jason wiggled into the door with a bright smile. “Jason!” Of course the fresh ice water in his hand happened to be a ridiculously expensive one that would make Harry blush as it came in a foggy glass bottle with a way too ornate jewel cap. 

Jean-Claude was always sending Harry expensive domestic things that most could buy for five dollars anywhere. However, instead of buying what he thought was cheap, Jean-Claude always bought the best. Even if the best tasted the same as everything else. Draco fully approved, Hermione and Harry thought it was excessive. 

_ Indulgent.  _

He never thought he’d be embarrassed to drink water, especially as Jean-Claude held it for him because of the mummy look of his right arm and the pinning of his left. Jason came over and sat on the edge of Harry’s bed. 

“Not looking so good there,” he said, leaving the Lupa out as he smiled. 

Nurse Debbie looked as though she were going to have a heart-attack looking between all the men congregated around the bed. She tried to keep professional, but all the men around were leaving her flustered. 

“It could be worse.” 

Dr. Nelson didn’t look like he agreed. “First, you’re going to be fine,” he said as though the men were of no consequence to him. Jason had to move so that the doctor could get to Harry’s arm, and began to cut away the bandages. 

“Glad to hear it.” 

“Second, I have no idea why. You took a very large caliber rifle round to your right arm. There should be muscle damage, but there isn’t.” He slid the bandages off, handing them to the nurse to dispose of. He took Harry’s arm to see a slick, pink scar on the side of his arm. 

Jean-Claude hissed. “You do still have that scar removal, oui?” He looked unhappy at it. 

Harry nodded to him. “Yes.” 

“It’s been forty-eight hours, Harry. Care to explain how you’re healing this fast?” 

“I’m a wizard and I have a high healing rate.” 

He didn’t look convinced with Harry’s answer as he lowered his arm to the bed. He got out one of those little flashlights and began to shine it in his eyes. Yikes. “Any pain?” 

“Nope.” 

He made Harry follow his fingers back and forth. He even made Harry look up and down. “Your head connected with the marble tombstone, so the FBI tells me. Our tests showed you had a concussion. Initially we thought your skull was cracked, and you were bleeding in places inside your head where you don’t want to be bleeding.” His eyes were very serious as he studied Harry’s face. “We ran a second set of tests before scheduling you for surgery, and what do you think, Harry? No internal bleeding. Gone. We thought we’d read the first test wrong, but I’ve got the pictures to show what we saw that first night. There was a crack in your skull, and you were bleeding, but later that morning it had stopped. In fact, the second set of tests shows the fracture healing. Healing like your arm is healing.” His serious expression intensified. 

Harry’s face never changed. “Everyone tells me I’m stubborn,” he quipped causing Jason to snicker and Micah and Edward smirked as Jean-Claude cooed at him, running fingers through his hair. 

“Really? You know, the only person I’ve ever seen heal damage like this was a lycanthrope.” 

“I’m not a lycanthrope,” said Harry. 

“We had to type you for surgery. There are certain things we look at in a blood test, just routine these days. Guess what we found?” 

“I can imagine.”

“Weird fucking shit.” 

Harry had never heard a doctor curse like that before. “Oh?” This wasn’t the first time, it reminded him of New Mexico, and he wondered where his wand happened to be. “And that is? I mean, are doctors supposed to say weird fucking shit?” 

He shrugged and laughed, but it was too late to go back to the nice roly-poly doctor disguise. There was a very sharp mind in there, and someone who only did good bedside manner because he was supposed to. 

He was almost relieved when Edward did a slight of hand with Jean-Claude. Jean-Claude reached for Harry’s right arm to caress it, and then slid his elder wand into it. Harry shuffled it with his fingers so that it was unseen. Jason was doing a good job to get in the nurses way so she couldn’t see it. 

“You’re right when you say you’re not a lycanthrope, but you’re a carrier, which should be impossible. A person either has lycanthropy or he doesn’t. You’re actually carrying around five different kinds; wolf, leopard, lion, rat, and one we can’t even identify, all of which is impossible. You can’t catch more than one kind of lycanthropy, because once you’ve got one, it makes you immune to the others.” He looked at Harry as if the look would be enough and Harry would crack and confess. He wasn’t surprised by most of them, but the lion was surprising. Chimera had had a lion form. Harry wondered if sucking out Chimera’s essence and feeding it to everyone had somehow managed to suck out the lion? He had no idea, and that unknown was likely snake. 

_ “Jean, can you hypnotize the nurse before the doctor leaves the room?” _

_ “Oui.”  _

_ “Edward…”  _

_ “I’m on it.”  _ Edward knew he wanted Harry’s medical chart along with the photographs taken, and hoped to Merlin that it didn’t have copies, though that was illegal. At least, Harry hoped it was. He was already quietly slipping from the room, never being noticed once. 

“Did you hear me, Marshall? You’re carrying five different kinds of lycanthropy.” He kept giving Harry this hard-as-nails look. 

“What do you want me to say?” 

“This isn’t news to you is it?

“Not really.” 

“Don’t you get it, Potter-Black? I’m telling you that you did catch it. It’s floating around in your veins right now. But you aren’t a lycanthrope, are you?’ 

“Nope.” 

“Why?” 

“I’m a Necromancer,” said Harry. “No Necromancer in history has ever been a lycanthrope. I am also a wizard. It’s not a title that you get from having a degree, Doctor. It’s something that is born into your blood from birth. There is a difference between Animators and Necromancy. Kind of like the difference between an Associate’s Degree and a MD. It’s likely that I’m not a lycanthrope because there’s so much going on in my blood that the strains are just dormant and overwhelmed.” 

The Doctor seemed to be thinking about what Harry had said, and he looked at Jean-Claude and the men one by one, noting Micah in particular who had his sunglasses on, even at night. He sighed as if he didn’t truly believe it. “Fine. You’re fit, well enough to go home. I’ll get the paperwork started.” He began to move towards the door. 

Jean-Claude already had the nurse mesmerized, and before the man could turn back to say something. Harry had his wand out. “ _ Obliviate! _ ” he whispered. He carefully reconstructed the man’s knowledge of his blood, and simply said ‘All was clear.’ Edward had returned and resumed his seat with a sharp nod. 

“You’re free to go,” said the Doctor as he slipped out. 

Jean-Claude had taken to altering the nurse’s memory. It was far easier as she came out of her dazed state none the wiser as she began to take out the IV’s. She blinked at the men around Harry. “A little privacy, maybe?” She said it like she wasn’t certain. Why was she so nervous?

Harry was confused. “Why? It’s just an IV.” 

Harry noticed that Jean-Claude was smiling seductively, and Micah quietly snickering behind Edward. 

“They’re making me nervous.” 

All of them agreed to leave, Jason and Micah rolling their eyes. She began to undo the tubes and IV. “So, which one of them is your boyfriend?” She had this embarrassed look on her face. 

Harry could only stare at her in confusion. “Excuse me?” 

“Oh, none of them?” She brightened. 

“Huh? What are you asking?” 

“Is one of them your boyfriend?” she repeated. 

Harry was surprised by the question. Why did it matter? “Erm, all of them but Jason, the short blond,” Harry clarified. 

She stared at him. “Mr. Callahan told you to say that, didn’t he? They’ve been incorrigible, teasing all of us.” 

Harry tilted his head. “Teasing you?” 

“Saying that you lived with them, and then trying to make us guess which of them is your boyfriend.” She actually blushed. “There’s a betting pool, so whichever of us was here when you first woke had to ask.”

“Why is it always a betting pool? I swear one of these days I need to get in on it, so I can get Teddy some pocket money,” he grumbled. “All of them are mine, except Jason.” The look on her face, she had gone as scarlet as her scrubs. “Jean-Claude doesn’t live with me, but he’s over there pretty often. But yes, the rest live with me. Micah, Jean-Claude, and Edward are my boyfriends.” 

“J-Jean-Claude is the-?” 

“Vampire. Yes.” 

She put her hands on her hips, and almost stamped her foot at Harry. Like some child. “It can’t be all true!”

The door opened behind her. It was Harry’s men, Jason, Special Agent Fox and Franklin. The nurse threw them a look, then hurried out. 

“What on earth have you been telling the nurses while I’ve been lying here?” Harry asked as Jean-Claude made a beeline for him again. 

Micah grinned. “The nurses were just trying to be friendly at first. But then we answered their questions truthfully, they didn’t believe us.” 

“I do believe it was something along the lines of, so many men could not be together in a relationship, and two Marshalls couldn’t possibly be involved.” Edward drawled with a smirk. “And so, Jean-Claude decided to tease them. It made for a moment of amusement.” 

Fox laughed, Franklin looked like he would blush if it would show. “He did at that.” He shook his head. 

Jean-Claude smiled smugly. “They were a bit on the stunned side when I told them that I owned a strip-club and sometimes did private dances.” 

Harry started laughing, Fox was almost in tears. Jason was grinning widely. Franklin didn’t know what to think. He was just staring. Harry looked at the tall man. “You see, Agent? How could I possibly fit another man into my life?” he asked. “I have my hands full as it is.” 

Fox started coughing to hide the higher laugh, and Franklin grunted. “I see…” He looked uncomfortable. 

“And no, he didn’t make us gay,” Micah reminded. 

“I apologize for that,” Franklin said. He seemed like he meant it. 

“Apology accepted.” He waved his hand. “I can’t believe it myself that I have these cuties on my arm.” 

“You think too little of yourself, mon Amour,” Jean-Claude cooed with a gentle squeeze. 

“I heard about the conversation exchange, and you did check out Detective Ramirez.” Edward reminded Harry, making Franklin’s eyes go almost white as they widened. 

“That’s because I was being petty and jealous at the time,” Harry defended with a childish huff. “Not like I meant it. Just wanted to see if I could annoy  _ Ted _ enough.” 

Jean-Claude had taken a seat beside Harry, and was inspecting his bruised up arm. Micah sat on the other side with Edward next to the bed and Jason. 

“The nursing staff seemed more interested in your boyfriends than in you.” 

Harry chuckled. “Well it is hard to compete with these guys.” 

Jean-Claude tutted at him, but Harry just stared at him. “I swear you have to be the first vampire I ever met who needs glasses.” Franklin actually laughed, and Jean-Claude merely looked at him. 

“You are so precious, but you need to hush, mon Amour.” He kissed Harry’s forehead. 

Fox smiled, and it was a real smile. “I came all the way down here to tell you what you missed, and I don’t think you give a damn.” 

Harry laughed. “I try to give a damn, but these men distract me. I barely remember hitting the marble.” 

His face went serious. “Yeah, you were hurt. We all thought…” he waved it away. “It doesn’t matter what we thought. When you went down, the zombie attacked Salvia. We couldn’t stop him. Ted managed to get the guy at the cemetery, kept him alive long enough for interrogation as to what the hell was happening. He died from critical injury on the way to the hospital.” 

“I remember Ted telling me to get down.” 

“How did you know, Marshall?” asked Franklin. 

“The wind,” said Edward. “It blew in the wrong direction. Before I arrived at the cemetery I did a once around the entire area, I also noted all the potential spots where someone could be around, though I did not expect someone to be so dim as to shoot against the wind. It’s likely why it wasn’t a headshot.” 

Fox and Franklin were impressed. 

“Salvia wasn’t delaying to be irritating. He was delaying to give the new hit man time to get to the cemetery. The idea was that with you dead or badly injured, they’d have more time to think of a Plan C.” 

“Plan C? What happened to A and B?” 

Micah began to rub his thumb beneath Harry’s knuckles in small circles, and Jean-Claude’s fingers were stroking down his face. Harry had a feeling that they were about to say something he didn’t like. Edward seemed more stiff and stony than usual. 

“After you and Micah went to the hotel, a salesman checked into the room that we’d reserved for Marshall Kirkland. The salesman was shot in his room. Then the killer put a Do Not Disturb sign on the door and probably took a plane to a different country. A very clean, very professional hit.” 

Harry decided not to tell him that it likely wouldn’t have killed him, though a blow to the head might change that. He wasn’t sure, and didn’t want to test them. Now, he saw why Edward was so stiff. Micah was actually squeezing Harry’s fingers. 

“Okay.” It was all he could say. 

Fox continued, understanding that there really wasn’t anything Harry could say about it. “Salvia must have gotten the shock of his life when he got word that Marshall Harry Potter-Black was coming to raise the zombie. He scrambled around and hired a not-so-clean, not-so-professional hit.” 

“It almost worked,” Micah murmured quietly. 

“Who was Salvia to have all these connections?” Harry asked. 

“He’s the lawyer of a hard-core Italian mob,” Edward answered before Fox could. 

Fox nodded. “Real old-fashioned mob at that.” 

Harry’s mind ran circles. “So, what happened? I mean, I get the gist of someone being a pedophile and pinning a horrible thing on Rose.” 

“Georgie is the son of the head of that family. We’ve been trying to take them down for years,” said Fox. “He’s a Pedolphile, and Saliva had the others cover it up so as not to bring shame on the family.” 

Edward snorted. “Agent, didn’t you think the son’s family would try to stop the testimony at all costs?” 

Fox turned to Edward. “Old fashioned mob does not attack federal officers. It’s bad for business.” 

“Old fashioned is the operative phrase here, Agent Fox. If what’s left of the Italian mob found out one of their own had hidden a violent pedophile, even his own son, the Feds would be the least of Georgie boy’s family’s worries.” Fox stared at Edward. “A coup d'etat would have taken place, and the other mobsters would have ‘legal’ grounds within the mafia to clean house on their own long before subpoenas and trial dates caught up with them.” 

Franklin looked at Edward. “You seem to know a lot about the Mafia.” 

“I know a lot of people, Agent Franklin. I was a Bounty Hunter long before a Federal Marshall. I taught this one everything I know. I’ve been teaching Larry Kirkland.” He pointed to Harry. “You could have gotten him killed. Would have gotten Larry killed.” His words were like the sharpest knife he’d ever felt from Edward as they cut through the room and landed right on Fox and Franklin. His face was as cold as the arctic. His eyes were dead and empty, and  _ all _ of Edward came out. Franklin actually took a step back. No vampire or lycanthrope could compare to the terror that Edward could give out with only a flash in his eyes. A sociopathic flash filled with possession. Jean-Claude had stopped stroking Harry, and Micah had curled into the wizard, clinging to him. Jason was ghost-white just looking back and forth. 

“You’re right, Marshall Forrester,” said Fox, taking in a lot of the frigid air. He then turned to Micah who by now had pulled Harry to where he was no longer on the bed, and had his arms looped around him so tight. Harry could do nothing but cling as Jean-Claude ran a hand up Micah’s back to calm him. Franklin could only stare. “Micah, I’m sorry. I almost fucked up your life again.” 

That was news to everyone, Edward’s eyes narrowing slightly now. “What are you guys talking about?” he asked severely. 

“When Micah was in a bed like Marshall Potter-Black is now, I told him that I had wanted to put out an alert two days before he and his uncle and cousin went hunting. I wanted to put out an alert to keep hunters out of the woods, but I wasn’t the agent in charge. Hell, I was just the Indian who got lucky because some of the first kills were on Indian land. I was outvoted, and I liked my career more than I liked the idea of saving lives. I told Micah that I owed him for that.” Fox looked at everyone. “And now I owe him again because we should have taken more precautions for your safety.” 

Harry didn’t want Fox to feel any worse. He didn’t really blame him, though Harry thought Edward might have. So he tried to be light-hearted. “I didn’t think the FBI was allowed to admit they were wrong.” 

He smiled, but not like he was entirely happy. “If you tell anyone, I’ll deny it.” 

“Just glad to be alive, Agent.” 

“I’m glad too.” And when the two men bowed out, the whole room was silent. Harry was still being held, and Jean-Claude was trying to smooth out the hard plastic feeling mattress with a mutter about how uncomfortable it was, and maybe Harry should be ordered a much more higher end room. 

“Remind me to speak to Monsieur Draco about future changes to your insurance.” 

“Erm.” 

“Toy, settle down,” said Edward touching the vampire. 

“He must have the best.” 

“I already have a way overpriced water, Jean. Thank you for taking care of me,” he said to the vampire who leaned in to kiss him softly. 

Edward leaned over Jean-Claude across the bed. “What’s going on Micah?” he asked. 

“Seeing him, seeing Harry like this…” Micah breathed into Harry’s hair. “I’m sorry, Baby.” 

“What for?” Harry tried to shift out of Micah’s grip to look at him, but the man wasn’t having it. 

“I don’t know what I would have done if something happened to you, and not even hours after I was being a stupid idiot.” 

Harry softly explained Micah’s story to them how he knew Fox. He left out the fighting, but Micah groaned as if Harry leaving it out only made him feel worse. 

“And how was mon Chaton a  _ stupid idiot _ as he says?” 

“We got into a fight,” said Micah shamefully. “Or rather I did. I lost it, said some things.”

“Micah, we’ve already talked about that. I agree with you completely.” 

Micah shook his head. “I’m sorry.” 

“I know you are,” said Harry patting him on the arm. “But, this time, I’m glad I was here. If not, Larry would be dead, and also you kind of saved us.” 

“How did I do that?” 

“You bought us an expensive hotel room!” Harry reminded him. “If you hadn’t done that, we’d have been at that motel when the hitman came.” 

“He’s right, mon Chaton. I think you need to stop being so hard on yourself,” said Jean-Claude stroking through Micah’s dark hair. He kissed Micah lovingly, and Edward grunted. 

“Fights are going to happen, Alpha. Nothing for it.” 

“Did you get those photographs?” 

“Including the copies,” said Edward holding up the silver flash-drive. “I had Shang-Da finish sweeping the room just in case. Bobby Lee is covering him.” 

“Good.” 

Micah loosened, but still kept hold of Harry, and leaned against Jean-Claude without saying anything. 

“What happened to Rose?” Harry asked, concerned. “Oh, and that rumbling, what was that?” 

Edward sank down on the spare part of the bed. “Interesting that. You caused a bit of a wave. Everyone is choosing to believe it was a mini-earthquake though it was centered at the cemetery. You fell, and the whole area began to shake, the dead began to rise including any dead animals in the vicinity.” 

Harry’s eyes widened. “What?!” 

“Surprisingly, Agent Franklin came up with a theory that everyone is accepting. He explained that because you were bleeding it mixed with the broken power circle and it amplified your magic all across the cemetery.” Harry was surprised that Agent Franklin would even go out on a limb for him like that. Why didn’t he say anything?

“Are they okay?” Harry asked. They all knew he meant the zombies. He took his zombies seriously. 

“All of them sat on top of their graves, and didn’t move an inch. After Rose killed Salvia he went over to sit by your head. He growled at anyone who got near you, except for me,” said Edward with a smirk of approval. “He recognized my blood or something, and let me get you.” 

“Are they still there?” 

Micah chuckled. “Nope. Seems Edward knows more than he lets on.” 

“I don’t,” admitted Edward. “But, I figured since my blood was used I could borrow some of your power and tell them to get their asses back to bed. They complied.” 

Harry doubled over with a flurry of snickers that dived into outright giggling. Micah let him go, and he crawled over to wrap his arms around Edward’s neck, still giggling. 

His hair was fisted as Harry kissed him on the cheek. He didn’t dare go for the mouth, considering the smell. Merlin, he was probably smelling awful. “You’re not allowed to die, Little Raven, and you, Alpha. Just be a good boy and fuck him a lot with that big cock of yours. It’s what I did.”

Micah smirked. “Speaking of cock, boy, do I have a story for you. You’ve created a monster, Edward.” 

Harry, still sore, managed to wiggle in a favorable position to sit on Edward who held him tight. Jean-Claude had Micah in his arms. “It was one of my finer moments,” he chirped proudly. 

“Can’t wait to hear it.”

“And afterwards, we shall discuss the Petite Loup’s birthday,” said Jean-Claude with a glimmer, and Harry just knew it was going to be an  _ over the top big to do _ . 

_ -Fin- _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi Lovely Readers! Next few days are rather busy for us so unfortunately we are not planning on posting until July 4th (Saturday). Apologies on the delay and missing the post on Thursday. 
> 
> That said - some exciting fun coming up including an increase in original content!!
> 
> Title: Amorous Illusions
> 
> Summary: Harry finds himself once again caught up in preternatural games of politics and dominance, and with the ardeur riding him it’s hard to keep control. Meanwhile, there are serial murders that need to be stopped. Harry is trying to be everything to everybody, and when Jean-Claude goes too far, well promises are promises. 
> 
> Timeline: takes place 2 months after this book, in June.

**Author's Note:**

> Book: Micah (technically #13) is a short novella so this will be short as well. 
> 
> Takes place in early April 2007, 3 years after the first part of this series!  
> Ages:  
> Harry - 26  
> Edward - 37  
> Micah - 27  
> Teddy - 8 (takes place before Teddy's birthday so not 9 yet)


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